


To the Great Unknown

by Deenerann



Series: Schitt's Creek Alternate Universe in Romance Novel Form [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, These two will end up together in any universe, What if they met in New York
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 75,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deenerann/pseuds/Deenerann
Summary: Alternate Universe-David owns a gay bar in New York. Patrick mistakenly stumbles into it on his first day there.It's the best mistake he ever made.Edit: Hey! It’s complete! 75k words! I’ll keep posting chapters once or twice daily.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer
Series: Schitt's Creek Alternate Universe in Romance Novel Form [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628365
Comments: 475
Kudos: 634





	1. The Beginning of it All

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'll preface this by saying that I write full-length romance novels. Writing short is HARD for me, so this may morph into something more like a novel, written chapter by chapter until it finally writes itself to a happy ending. 
> 
> I like characters with dark, complicated back-stories. I want their lives to be messy before they're made better by love. This might end up being more angsty than the real show, but I promise everything will wind up okay.
> 
> Let me know if you want me to keep going. I'm avoiding finishing my latest book--which has a deadline--in favor of writing this, but it's in my head and it's probably good for me to get it out. Writing is writing, right?
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Patrick Brewer ran.

He’d run before, of course… multiple times, but never quite as far as this. Normally, he’d get as far as the next town over, stay one night, and then tuck his tail between his legs and head back home. He’d apologize to everyone—especially Rachel—be forgiven, and the cycle would repeat itself.

He’d spent his life doing what everyone—his parents, Rachel, their friends—expected of him, and honestly, he never thought he’d ever do any different. He even gotten engaged when he _really_ didn’t want to, just because he knew it was the next logical step in the trajectory of his normal, wholesome, small-town life as it barreled toward an inevitable conclusion.

He never thought he’d be brave enough to stop that trajectory mid-flight.

In the end, it was an innocent conversation about what their babies would look like that finally broke him. He stared at Rachel and envisioned a brood of pale, red headed, and adorable kids… some girls, some boys, and the bottom dropped out of his world.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bring life into the world when he couldn’t even be honest with himself about what he wanted. How could he raise children to love and respect him when he didn’t feel like he deserved either of those emotions?

He loved Rachel—he’d known her half his life, after all—but he didn’t _love_ her like a man should love the woman he planned on marrying. He didn’t look at her and feel any kind of spark. He’d never experienced that spark with _anyone_ , at least not any of the few girls he’d dated in his life, and he wasn’t sure he ever would. Maybe he was broken—and if he was broken, he really shouldn’t inflict that brokenness on anyone else. Especially not someone as good as Rachel.

He wasn’t sure what he should do. He just knew he couldn’t go through with it. _Especially_ because of Rachel and their future, imaginary children. They deserved better than him.

So he ran.

To another freaking country.

So now he stood in the middle of Times Square, staring around at the vast sea of humanity, and tried his very best not to vomit on some Wall Street banker’s very expensive shoes as they walked past him on their way to dinner. A dinner that probably signaled the end of a day in the path of a life they were absolutely certain of.

Unlike Patrick.

What the fuck was he even doing?

He needed something to drink. Immediately. And then he’d reassess his impulsive decision. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go back home.

Blindly, he shoved his way against the flow of people on the sidewalk and pushed his way through a door of what looked like might be a bar.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was still early enough that the bar wasn’t packed, but there were quite a few people milling around, and the dance floor had started to fill up. The steady pulse of electronic music calmed him a bit, and he made his way to the bar, not really focusing on the faces around him.

He slid onto a barstool and caught the eye of the bartender—an elfin woman with long dark hair and a flannel shirt. She rocked the whole grunge look, even though Patrick was pretty sure that wasn’t actually a thing anymore, but what did he know? Maybe New York was different than Toronto.

Patrick glanced down at his Levi’s and sensible, button-down dress shirt.

God, he probably looked so out of place. 

“What’ll you have?” she asked.

“Uh. Beer?”

She grinned. “You sound uncertain.”

“That seems to be the running theme of my life.”

She nodded. “Beer it is. Got a preference?”

“Um, something dark. Preferably high alcohol content.”

She smiled and tilted her head, regarding him for a second. “Coming right up.”

Patrick sighed and watched her walk away before squinting his eyes shut and trying to take deep, calming breaths.

He felt the air shift around him while his eyes were still closed. Something changed—went a little electric—and Patrick opened them again, confused.

The barstool next to him was no longer empty. A man sat there, eyeing him curiously. And not just any man, but some kind of god-damn _vision_. Patrick felt a punch to his gut like he’d never experienced before, not once in his entire 29 years. He sucked in a breath and somehow managed to keep himself from falling off the stool.

The guy was _beautiful_.

Patrick had seen beautiful before. He’d been surrounded by it. Rachel was beautiful, girls he’d dated beside her had been beautiful… but not like this. Not like this masterpiece sitting across from him. This man was simply the most gorgeous thing Patrick had ever been fortunate enough to lay eyes on, and he didn’t quite know how to process that.

Black hair stood tall in some kind of impossible style, dark eyes sparkled under the dim lights of the bar, the best eyebrows Patrick had ever seen slashed across his forehead—(Patrick wanted to run his fingers across them, and what a weird thing _that_ was to imagine)—and he wore the craziest outfit Patrick had ever seen a human being wear. The sweater was a strange thing, black and soft looking, a giant lightning bolt pointing down toward—well, there. Patrick’s eyes dropped and widened. The man was wearing some kind of skirt/pant combination which inexplicably sent a flash of heat racing across Patrick’s spine before he realized he was staring at the man’s crotch like some kind of pervert. He quickly raised his gaze again and locked it with the other man’s. He stared back at Patrick, his expression equal parts amused and interested.

“Hi.” The man’s voice was soft, slightly feminine. It _did things_ to Patrick. He felt his cock wake up and take a sudden interest.

What the _hell_?

Patrick’s mouth dropped open as he momentarily lost the ability to speak. Luckily, he was saved by the elfin bartender placing what looked like a thick stout in front of him. She nodded to the man on his left.

“Hey, David. The usual?”

The man nodded. “Yep. Thanks.”

 _David_. Patrick liked that name. He said it a few times in his head, all with varying degrees of heat. Why on earth was he thinking of a man’s name with _any_ degree of heat? Had he hit his head somewhere during the road trip to New York? He was clearly losing it. Was this what a mental break felt like?

The man— _David_ —still watched him, head slightly cocked, a small smile playing around his lips. They remained silent, regarding each other, until the bartender placed a Cosmopolitan in front of David, winked, and walked away.

David blushed, a quick flash of dimples appearing before they quickly disappeared. Patrick’s body lit up, like he’d touched some kind of live wire. What the fresh hell was going _on_ with him?

He shook his head, clearing his throat, and tried to speak. “Patrick.” His voice sounded raspy, unused.

David flashed him a quick smile, and the sudden reemergence of the dimples made Patrick go a little light-headed.

“Hello, Patrick. What brings you to a place like this? Forgive me for being rude, but you don’t exactly look like you should be here.” He waved his hands around dramatically. “A man in straight-legged, mid-range denim isn’t our usual clientele, no matter how cute you may be.”

_He thinks I’m cute!_

Patrick felt pretty sure his face would split open from the force of the grin he shot David. It was such a simple statement, but it did something to his psyche. Something crumbled inside him, some kind of bastion around his sub-conscious fell away, and Patrick blinked with the sudden realization that he _liked_ the idea of another man thinking he was cute—especially if the other man was as hot as this one.

_Hot. I think he’s fucking hot. Huh._

David blinked, his face going through a range of emotions Patrick had never seen another person pull off so quickly. Shock, surprise, confusion, embarrassment, shyness, and then finally settling into something else as his gaze fell on Patrick’s mouth. Whatever that look was, it was dark—intent—and it made Patrick’s knees go all trembly.

David’s gaze flicked back up to his and they stared at each other for a beat before his other words registered in Patrick’s brain.

A place like this? What kind of place _was_ this?

He looked around, finally taking in the scene surrounding him—men pressed together on the dance floor, couples grinding against each other in dark corners, women making out unabashedly at the other end of the bar.

_Oh. OH!_

Patrick’s eyes widened and he stared around the bar, lost in his thoughts. Of all the places he could have wound up in his first hour in New York, he managed to find some random gay bar in midtown, sitting across from the hottest human he’d ever had the pleasure to meet.

Patrick had always wondered if he might be into guys. He just wasn’t that attracted to women, not like he thought he should be, anyway. He’d had a decent sex life, but it always wound up being more about expectations and comfort and less about actual passion. He’d never felt _passion_ before, not like he’d always heard about.

When he was a teenager, back in rural Ontario, he never allowed himself to wander down the path of exploring what it would be like to be with another guy. That was _not done_ in his high school, and he wasn’t really in the mood to lose any of his friends, so he threw himself into dating girls and tried to shove that part of his emotions down into a very deep, dark closet. It worked—mostly. Except for when it _didn’t_ , and he ran away to New York only to find himself in a place that 100% personified everything he’d ever been running from.

It _had_ to be fate.

When he stared back at David, something that almost felt like certainty snapped into place in his brain. He grinned again, all his earlier uncertainty and fear about being in New York disappearing in a flash.

“David, I’m _exactly_ where I need to be.”


	2. Never Trust Expectations

David saw the guy the minute he entered the bar.

Maybe _saw_ was too understated a word.

Felt? Could you _feel_ someone enter a room? If so, he’d certainly never experienced that particular sensation before now.

Either way, normally he ignored the constant flash of sunlight that filtered into the bar every time the door opened, but for some reason, this time, he glanced up.

And promptly stopped breathing.

The guy who elicited that unexpected response was perfectly normal. Short haircut, boring Costco jeans, a button up, light blue dress shirt, sensible hiking boots—everything David normally detested, but somehow, on this guy, it was endearing? Why the fuck would _any_ of that be endearing? David shook his head but continued watching him.

The guy walked towards the bar with a purpose, ignoring the curious looks of everyone he walked past. David doubted he even saw them—it looked like he was _deeply_ in his own head.

David understood that. He was _always_ in his own head.

A loud snort of laughter burst from his side and David jumped, turning toward the sound. Sebastien Raine leaned lazily on David’s table, his long body effortlessly taking up way too much space. He made David’s skin crawl, but he didn’t want to make a scene. Not right now.

“Get a load of that loser,” said Sebastien, his voice dripping with disdain.

“I’m sorry, is there a mirror around I’m not aware of?

Sebastien rolled his eyes. “David, David, David. That look isn’t good on you.”

“What look?” David snapped, his eye still on the guy in the hiking boots. Stevie had made her way to the counter and was conversing with him, a small smile on her face. She looked delighted.

“The one where you pretend you’re still not into me.”

“There’s no pretense there, Sebastien. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” He stood, making his way toward the bar. He trusted Stevie’s opinion of people, and he didn’t see any judgement on her face regarding this guy who was so clearly out of his element. She just looked interested and pleased. That had to be a good sign.

By the time he made it to the bar, the guy had his eyes scrunched shut, trying to suck in long, deep breaths. Maybe he was in the middle of a panic attack. David winced. He knew what those were like, and he didn’t wish them on anyone. Not even someone like Sebastien. He glanced over at the table, where Sebastien still leaned, a smirk on his face.

No, he took that back. He wished a _million_ of them on Sebastien. In rapid succession. One after the other. Consecutively. In a row.

The guy’s shoulders stiffened and he opened his eyes, turning to face David.

When their gazes collided, David stopped breathing again. The guy was _adorable_ , even if he was clearly a very straight man in a very gay bar. David felt a momentary flash of guilt about the overwhelming ping of attraction he felt before he pushed it down and out of the way. No use being attracted to a guy like this. Nothing would come of it, just a low hum of disappointment that inevitably would lead him into making some very bad decisions. Probably involving Sebastien.

Still, the guy stared at David like he was some kind of revelation. David did his very best not to preen. He _loved_ when people looked at him like that. It made him stop questioning whether or not his nine-step skincare regimen was too much. Then the guy’s gaze dropped to David’s lap and his ears turned pink.

_Huh. Interesting._

The guy quickly raised his eyes again and they stared at each other wordlessly. This wouldn’t do.

“Hi,” offered David.

The man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Why was he having that kind of reaction to a simple hello?

He started to say something else, but Stevie was suddenly at his side. “Hey, David. The usual?”

“Yep, thanks.” He didn’t even look at her. He couldn’t make himself break eye contact. This was probably coming across as very weird—stalkery, even (was that a word)? He should look away—say something else—anything, but he couldn’t do anything but stare into those gorgeous whiskey brown eyes.

Man, he really needed to get laid. Having this kind of reaction to a straight guy was _so_ off-brand.

Stevie reappeared, placing a Cosmo in front of him. She shot him a sunny grin and winked before walking away.

Oh yeah, he’d pay for this later. She saw right through him. He’d never hear the end of this particular break from reality.

The guy opened his mouth, blinked, and then said, “Patrick.” His voice was low and raspy. It _did things_ to David.

 _Fuck_.

He bit his lip and tried his best not to smile.

He failed.

Still, he forged on. Best to get this out before he fell further down the rabbit hole of some stranger’s eyes.

“Hello, Patrick. What brings you to a place like this? Forgive me for being rude, but you don’t exactly look like you should be here. A man in straight-legged, mid-range denim isn’t our usual clientele, no matter how cute you may be.”

Patrick’s face transformed. His smile was so wide and so honest that David felt like the room had been sucked of all its oxygen. He couldn’t breathe again.

Holy fuck, Patrick was _beautiful_.

David blinked, trying to sort out all the emotions slamming into him. How could a straight guy be so god-damn sexy, and why did his smile make David feel all hollowed out inside, while at the same time full of fireworks? This wouldn’t do at _all_. Still, his eyes dropped to Patrick’s lips, which were still smiling, and all he wanted to do was kiss him senseless.

Yup, definitely a break from reality.

He watched Patrick, fascinated, as the other man’s gaze traveled around the room. He recognized the moment Patrick realized _exactly_ the kind of establishment he’d stumbled into.

David waited for the smile to drop off Patrick’s face and turn into horror and embarrassment instead. He should know. It had happened in here before. He was used to it. He just didn’t understand why he should feel so desolate about it right now, waiting for this guy to react the same way.

Only, it didn’t happen.

It took a couple minutes. David watched a vast array of emotions flicker behind the other man’s eyes, but none of them ever reached the level of disgust he expected. Instead, when Patrick finally locked eyes with David again, his expression was full of wonder. Acceptance. Maybe even certainty?

David sucked in a breath, waiting to see what Patrick would do next.

The gorgeous smile reappeared, setting off some kind of explosion in David’s brain. He really wanted to kiss him right now. He wanted to reach across the bar, haul him into his lap, and make out with him like he was some kind of horny 16-year-old. Like, more than he’d ever wanted to do _anything_. What the fuck was going on right now?

Then Patrick said something that tilted David’s world right off its axis. He wasn’t sure if it would ever right itself completely again.

“David, I’m _exactly_ where I need to be.”


	3. Well, This Was Unexpected

Patrick sat, grinning at the mass of people surrounding him. The bar had gotten a hell of a lot more crowded, and the pulse of music louder, but he was too damn shell-shocked and happy to move off the barstool.

Stevie—because the bartender _finally_ introduced herself after he asked for the _fifteenth_ time—kept refilling his beer, and Patrick was more than a little tipsy.

David disappeared a while ago, which Patrick tried really hard to not think about. The thought of not seeing him ever again killed his buzz way too much. In truth, it made him really fucking sad. Which was _ridiculous_ , since they said maybe a dozen words to each other, total.

Which also meant that the hum of electricity under Patrick’s skin whenever he thought about David was asinine, and unreasonable, and ludicrous, and why was he using so many big words to talk himself out of an attraction to a _very_ hot man?

He should embrace it. It was something that finally felt right.

 _He_ felt right.

He grinned to himself again and turned to Stevie, pointing at his half-empty glass. She rolled her eyes and glanced up, holding her arms out in surrender. Patrick followed her gaze to a small, mirrored window up near the ceiling, above the dance floor.

“Whatcha’ lookin’ at?” he slurred.

“I’m telling my boss that you won’t stop drinking.”

“Are you psychic?”

She threw him an exasperated look. “You are so wasted, farm boy. You’re not making any sense.”

Patrick snorted. “Not a farm boy. BUSINESS major boy. I went to University. And I’m making perfect sense. How can you tell them anything if they’re way up there?” He pointed to the window and nearly toppled off his stool.

“Whoa there,” Stevie said, grabbing his shoulder to keep him upright. “I think it’s time we cut you off. Let’s call you a cab, okay? Where do you live?”

Patrick frowned. “Um, I don’t know?”

Stevie grimaced. “Did you forget?”

Patrick shook his head. “Didn’t forget. Haven’gotten a place yet.” His eyes suddenly felt very heavy. “Am tired, though. Should head out.”

Stevie laughed, the sound somehow both delighted and annoyed. “Oh God, this is going to be so much fun. You’re not going anywhere, dude. Hang tight.”

She picked up a phone behind the bar and punched a couple buttons. “So, interesting turn of events—” When she saw Patrick watching her, she frowned and turned away. He couldn’t hear her over the beat of the music, so he dropped his head against the counter, trying to keep everything from spinning. Maybe the last beer had been a bad idea. He didn’t feel so good all of the sudden.

As things around him started to fade into a fuzzy blackness, Patrick thought about David’s soft looking sweater, and how he wished he could have seen him again, one more time.

***

The next thing he remembered was the sensation of movement. He felt weightless, but his face was pressed against something warm and soft. Someone’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders and thighs. His brain sharpened enough for him to realize he was being carried. He tried to open his eyes to see who held him in such a strong grip, but he couldn’t make his eyelids work. Whoever it was, they smelled nice—like cedar and pine. It made him think of hikes in the woods, which he loved.

The softness on his cheek was whatever they were wearing. Patrick’s head rested in the nook between their shoulder and neck, which was also nice. He liked that spot. He wanted to settle in, make a home there. It felt _good_ being held by someone like this. It made him feel dainty. Who knew he’d _like_ feeling dainty? He hummed with contentment and shoved his face in deeper, taking a long breath before exhaling onto the hot skin located right above all the softness.

The movement halted for a second and Patrick heard a sharp intake of breath and a muffled curse. Then they were moving again, faster this time. Patrick smiled and stopped thinking.

***

The next time he came to, he was laying on something soft. He opened his eyes and blinked. His head pounded and he really wanted to be sick, so he closed them again. Groaning, he tried again—just one eye this time.

He was in a dark room, in a bed. Alone. The sheets were silky soft, and a warm, fluffy comforter surrounded his body. It smelled familiar, like cedar and pine. Patrick frowned. Why did he recognize that scent? There was something elusive in his peripheral memory, taunting him. He wanted to remember, but couldn’t.

How did he even get here? Last thing he remembered, he’d asked Stevie for another drink. Did someone roofie him, or something? He frowned. No. That wasn’t possible. No one even _talked_ to him at the bar—just David. And David disappeared long before he got drunk.

He frowned again. He didn’t want to think about David disappearing. That was too much.

Groaning again, he pulled the covers over his head. He’d deal with all this tomorrow, when everything stopped hurting.

***

Patrick opened his eyes. His mouth felt stuffed full of cotton, and his head thumped in misery. He groaned at the bright light filling the room and turned his head away from the window before propping himself up in surprise.

On a neat, modern side table next to the bed sat a large glass of water and a bottle of Excedrin. Patrick moaned in gratitude at whatever aspirin fairy left this for him and grabbed the bottle. He opened it and popped four pills, draining the glass of water before flopping back on the pillows.

He needed to get up, but he had no idea where he even was. Frowning again, he lifted up the covers, glancing down at himself. He wore pajama bottoms that were absolutely not his, and a simple white tee shirt. Where were _his_ clothes?

He sat up and looked around, confused.

The room was really nice. Modern, but simple, decorated in black and white. Patrick’s clothes were folded neatly on a chair next to a computer desk, and a white piece of paper sat on top of them.

Patrick frowned and got up, walking over to the chair with shaky legs. He still felt like shit.

Grabbing the paper, he made his way back to the bed and sat down heavily, scrunching his eyes to focus on the words.

**Patrick-**

**Feel free to use the shower. The bathroom is through the door by the dresser. There are towels in the cupboard. Use whatever products you want, I don’t mind. I have the coffee maker set to start at 8am, so if I’m still asleep, help yourself, but try and stay quiet? I’m not really a morning person.**

**-DR**

Patrick’s frown grew larger. DR? Doctor? What doctor? He glanced around the room for any kind of identifying information, but there wasn’t any. Not even a photograph.

He glanced down at himself and groaned again. He sure as hell wasn’t walking out the door wearing pajamas, so a shower it was. Maybe the hot water would make him feel better. Grabbing his clothes, he headed into the bathroom.

The bathroom was as simply and elegantly furnished as the bedroom. Everything was lined up on shelves just so, and there was more skin product in there than Patrick had ever seen in his life. Where the hell _was_ he? Nothing made any sense.

Shaking his head, he turned on the water and got undressed, stepping under the spray to try and wash the alcohol out of him.

As the water cascaded over his body, he thought back to the night before—to the revelation that made him feel like his whole world opened up and shone a hell of a lot brighter. Then he thought about David. How could you feel so right and so sad at the same time? It was like he’d been offered the world and then had it yanked out from underneath him in the exact same moment.

Patrick growled and scrubbed his face, a little harder than necessary. The soap he was using looked organic and smelled like the same cedar and pine scent that was on the sheets. At this rate, he was never going to forget this smell. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, so he catalogued it in his brain—associating it with dark eyes and impossibly tall hair. This smell would always make him think of last night, which would always make him think of David.

It would have to do. A happy memory he’d probably never forget, mixed together with the smell of a forest at dawn.

Sighing, he stayed under the water until it started to go cold, and then reluctantly turned it off. He quickly got dressed and tossed his towel and the pajama bottoms into a hamper. Whoever lived here, they were _extremely_ neat, and probably would not appreciate him leaving his crap all over the floor. He put the tee shirt back on, though. It was more comfortable than his button up.

Carefully opening the bedroom door, he peered out. He was in a smallish apartment, but it was still very nice. Large windows opened out to the city—the billboards of Times Square prominently displayed. So, he was still in midtown. He hadn’t gone very far from the bar.

 _Huh_.

He stepped through the doorway and took a longer look around. The apartment smelled like coffee and Patrick’s stomach grumbled. He tentatively took a couple more steps and peered farther into the room.

It was an open floor plan, the kitchen and living room all contained in one large space. It looked like maybe it had been an industrial building before it had been turned into an apartment, but someone had made that aesthetic work.

Large metal beams criss-crossed the ceiling, and the floors were a mixture of wood and black and white tile.

He liked it. He didn’t normally like modern, but something about this whole look appealed to him.

He glanced into the living room, at a large, white couch that took up a good portion of real estate. Someone lay on it, their body covered by another fluffy comforter. It completely covered their head, so Patrick couldn’t even get a single clue about who might be hiding under it. Whoever it was, they were still asleep. The gentle rise and fall of the blanket captivated Patrick for a minute before he forced himself to look away.

He growled low in annoyance and quietly stalked into the kitchen. He needed coffee. Introductions would have to wait until whoever it was decided to wake up.

The coffee pot was full, and a large mug sat next to it, sugar and creamer nearby. Patrick cocked his head, staring at the set up. Whoever brought him home last night had changed him into pajamas, left him water and aspirin, and made sure he’d have an easy time with getting coffee in the morning. They’d also let him have the bed while they slept on the couch.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so taken care of, and he still had no idea who to thank for any of it.

Sighing, he grabbed the mug and poured a cup of coffee, forgoing anything else. As bad as his head felt, he needed it black this morning. Walking over to the window, he peered out over the city, taking a sip while he watched people scurry to and fro below, heading to work—living their nice, normal lives.

Patrick wasn’t sure his would ever feel normal again, but right now he didn’t really care. He felt like he stumbled onto the first day of the rest of his life—one he could finally start living the way he probably always should have been.

He smiled to himself and took another sip.

A soft shuffling behind him caught his attention and he whirled around, nearly dropping his mug in shock.

David stood by the island in the kitchen, watching him with wary eyes.

His hair was an impossible mess, standing up in dark spikes pointing every which direction, he wore a black and white striped, long sleeved tee shirt, and white pajama pants. Thick black glasses framed his dark eyes.

He looked exhausted and nervous, picking at the sleeves of his shirt, but Patrick had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He wanted to shout out his relief and happiness, but he somehow managed to keep it all inside. Instead, he just smiled, trying to keep all the joy stampeding through him at bay.

Headache? What headache? Patrick never felt better in his whole fucking life.

“Well, good morning,” he whispered.


	4. Revelations

David stared at the bedroom door, running his hands through his hair. He’d just placed the most endearing man he’d ever seen into his bed and _left the room_. He did not want to leave the room, not even remotely, but Patrick was _so_ drunk, and David was doing everything he could not to take advantage of that very adorable fact.

He’d been trying all night to stay away from him, and he’d almost succeeded, but now, somehow, Patrick was snuggled up in his sheets, wearing _his_ pajamas, looking like a goddamn snack in his bedroom. And David _really_ loved snacks.

After Patrick flashed that fucking gorgeous grin at him, all honesty and openness, it took every ounce of control inside David to be able to get up and leave the bar. He wanted to stay. _God_ , he wanted to stay. He was fairly certain he’d be perfectly happy talking to Patrick all night long, but that wasn’t safe.

Sebastien was still in the club, and David had walked away from him to go talk to Patrick. It was risky enough, doing that, but Sebastien wouldn’t think too much of David approaching someone who looked lost and out of place. It _was_ his job, after all. So, he talked to Patrick, walked away, and went upstairs to his office. Every step he took away from Patrick felt awful, like he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but there was no way David was going to risk it.

He didn’t want to make Sebastien feel the need to fuck with someone as sweet and open and honest as Patrick appeared to be. And Sebastien _absolutely_ would do that, if he thought it would get to David—if he thought it would hurt him. He’d chew Patrick up and spit him out, and David couldn’t bear the thought of that happening. Not because of him. Not to someone like Patrick.

So, he left him sitting there, with Stevie on guard. It was fucking _hard_ to do.

Instead, he spent the rest of the night up in his office, staring out the tiny window, watching the man on the barstool below. No one approached him, which was good, because David wasn’t sure he could stay up there if they had. He didn’t want to see anyone else flirt with Patrick. That thought made his skin uncomfortably tight. He didn’t like it at all.

He’d ordered Stevie to look after him, that all Patrick’s drinks were on the house. Stevie eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. He knew that look, though. He’d have to explain his rationale to her later. He wasn’t really even sure what his rationale _was_. He just knew he didn’t want to see Patrick leave the bar. He didn’t want him to head out into the New York night, never to be seen again. He couldn’t stay and talk to him, but he didn’t want him to disappear either.

What a completely fucked up situation.

Sebastien eventually left. It took a while, but David got word through one of his bouncers that he’d taken off with a couple of other guys from the club. So, it was finally safe to show his face again.

David heaved a sigh of relief and started to stand, to head back downstairs, to be in the same space as Patrick. Stevie looked like she’d had enough of babysitting, and he didn’t blame her. The bar was packed, and looking after one of his crushes really wasn’t in her job description.

Then the phone rang. And Stevie was telling him Patrick was beyond drunk and apparently had nowhere to go. Not even a hotel room that she was aware of. There was no way in hell David would let a drunken Patrick wander off in the night to find a place to stay. So many things could go wrong.

So, he got up, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs.

Then, he was carrying an almost completely passed out Patrick up to his apartment, his arms full of a compact and muscular body. He closed his eyes briefly, bit his lip, and tried to calm down his libido. Patrick was _drunk_. It didn’t matter how good his body felt pressed up against David’s. Nothing could happen because he was drunk.

David nearly lost his tenuous grasp on control when Patrick buried his face in his neck and moaned, the sound and hot breath below his ear making David freeze for a minute, his arms tightening. God, that was _good_ , but—no. He couldn’t do anything.

 _Drunk_. Patrick was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing.

David pretty much ran the rest of the way to his apartment. He didn’t even wait for the elevator. He just took the stairs, lugging a surprisingly heavy man up three flights of stairs. He did his best to avert his eyes as he took off Patrick’s jeans and shirt, changing him into pajamas. He wanted him to be comfortable—although it wasn’t _completely_ altruistic. David didn’t really want jeans that had been sitting on a dirty barstool all night sliding under his high thread count sheets.

Also, he really wanted to get a look at that compact, hard body.

Dirty pervert. He was a _filthy_ pervert. He could admit that. The brief look he got of Patrick’s body was totally worth earning that title, though.

David grinned, staring at the bedroom door again before groaning and flopping down on the couch. He stared up at the ceiling, the lights of Times Square flashing colors off the metal of the pipes. It would be hard to sleep tonight, but he needed to try.

Pulling the blanket over his head, he closed his eyes and tried to shut down his brain.

***

When he opened them again, light filtered under the blanket and he heard soft shuffling in the kitchen. He froze and tried to control his breathing. Patrick must be awake.

David’s heart thumped heavy in his chest and he debated pretending to stay asleep. But, no. He couldn’t run from this. He needed to get up and face the music. Plus, he really wanted to continue the conversation they’d started last night. If Patrick still wanted to, that is.

There was a good chance he might be pissed. David had taken a lot of liberties bringing him up here—changing his clothes—putting him into his bed. He may have totally freaked the other man out. There was only one way to find out, though.

He quietly pushed the comforter aside and stood, grabbing his glasses off the coffee table. Patrick was in the kitchen, staring out the window. His shoulders were broad in David’s white tee shirt, his muscles bunching under the fabric, and David’s mouth went a little dry. God, he was pretty.

He must have made a noise because Patrick whirled around, his eyes wide and shocked. Then they warmed, and that fucking _revelation_ of a smile took over his face again.

David went a little weak in the knees.

“Well, good morning!” Patrick’s voice was raspy—soft.

Weak in the knees? Fuck that. David was done for. Absolutely toast.

He smiled back, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Hi.”


	5. Blast from the Past

If there was a word to adequately describe the feeling of white hot sunlight bursting out through your skin, Patrick was pretty sure it would accurately define what he was currently experiencing.

 _Transcendent_ didn’t seem strong enough. 

David stood in front of him, sleepy and rumpled, with the cutest case of bedhead Patrick had ever seen. Patrick had never been happier in his life—or, let’s be honest—more turned on.

He’d almost started to believe that the vision in the bar had been a mirage. There was no way one person could be so unbelievably hot and actually exist in the world. The longer Patrick went without seeing David, the more he began to believe he’d overestimated just how attractive and sexy he remembered him being.

Now that David stood across from him in a gleaming, white kitchen, Patrick could safely say he absolutely had _not_ overestimated. If anything, the lighting in the bar had made him _under_ estimate.

David was completely, undeniably, ridiculously magnificent. Patrick’s brain began to short-circuit, trying to process just _how_ magnificent, so he just kept smiling. He didn’t know what to say next, but standing there grinning like a deranged mime probably wasn’t the best direction to take this.

David started to look uncomfortable, glancing everywhere in the room _but_ at Patrick’s face. He kept fiddling with four silver rings on his right hand, switching them from finger to finger, his movement still graceful, despite the fact that he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Patrick cleared his throat. “You wear glasses.”

It wasn’t meant to be a question. Patrick just wanted to break the silence by stating something obvious, but David’s gaze flew back to his, startled. He raised his hands to his face, his cheeks turning pink. “N-not normally, no. You were just asleep? And I didn’t have a chance to put my contacts in this morning? And I—”

“You don’t have to explain. It’s just—well, they’re really working for me, that’s all.”

David’s cheeks flushed a brighter red and he ducked his head, his dimples appearing as he bit his lip. It looked like he was trying to hide a smile. “Oh. Well. Thank you?”

Patrick grinned. He loved the way David talked. It was so different than he was used to back home, but still absolutely adorable. Everything was a question, even when it wasn’t. Patrick thought he could listen to David talk all day and never get bored. Still, as much as he wanted to listen, he figured he should take the lead and acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“How am I here right now, David? In your kitchen.”

David winced, glancing around the room again. “Are you hungry? I could eat. I don’t really have anything here right now, but I can order something? There’s a place around the corner that delivers really quickly. Great pancakes.”

Patrick smiled. He’d never expect a vision like the one standing in front of him to be so nervous, but he wasn’t going to complain. It made him feel—well, feel _something_. That white hot electric sunlight from before that he couldn’t define.

“Ok, David. We can order breakfast. And while we wait, we can talk.”

David nodded. “Sure, sure. That seems reasonable.” He glanced up and met Patrick’s eyes, offering him a small, shy smile.

Patrick’s heart stopped beating for a second.

Good God. He’d never felt like this around _anyone_ before. Was _this_ what attraction was supposed to feel like? He’d been missing out on _this_ all these years? It didn’t seem fair.

Shaking his head, he pointed to the couch, his hands trembling. “Can we sit? I’m still pretty hung-over.”

David’s expression went from shy to worried in an instant. “Oh! Yes, sorry! Of course, sit down! Here, let me—” He ran over the couch and grabbed the blanket, folding it into a perfect square before placing it on a chair nearby.

Patrick raised his eyebrows as he sat. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asked, pointing to the blanket.

“Oh,” David said, his voice full of laughter. “I had an unfortunate tenure at a regrettable establishment called _The Blouse Barn_. I promise you it was as bad as it sounds.”

“Blouse Barn, huh? That sounds… pastoral.”

David laughed. “If you’d describe skanky dresses as pastoral, than yes. It was definitely—bucolic.”

Patrick sat back, surprised. Not only was David hot, he was smart, too. Patrick’s pulse ratcheted up a notch and he grinned, his gaze locking with David’s. He felt almost giddy with attraction.

David’s eyes went a little wild and he sank down on the couch next to Patrick—so close, but still just far enough away that Patrick wouldn’t be able to “accidentally” brush up against him. _Dammit._

“I—uh—I probably should order that food.” David grabbed his phone and busied himself, tapping something out on the screen for a couple minutes. When he finally looked up and smiled, his eyes were a bit calmer. “There. It should be here in about twenty minutes.” He sat back against the arm of the couch, drawing his legs up underneath him, like a kid in pre-school. “Now, where were we?”

The smile that accompanied that sudden bout of energy almost knocked Patrick off the other end of the couch, it was so beautiful.

He lost the ability to speak for a minute. “Uh. We.” He blinked. “That is to say, you were going to tell me how I ended up here. Last thing I remember, I was in the bar.”

“You _were_ in the bar, yes,” David said nodding. “And you were also very, _very_ drunk.”

Patrick’s face heated. “How bad was it? What did I do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you’d have to ask Stevie. By the time I got back downstairs, you were half-asleep. That’s when I figured I should probably bring you back up here, if only to keep you from getting mugged. Stevie said you told her you haven’t gotten a place to stay yet?”

“I haven’t, no. I just got into town yesterday.” He paused. “Wait, you brought me back _up_ here? Does that mean we’re above the bar right now?”

David nodded. “Yeah. I own the building.”

Patrick sat back, eyes widening. “ _You_ own the building?!”

David grimaced. “Well, that’s not entirely true, I guess. The bank owns most of it. I’m making payments.” He shrugged. “I’m still getting used to the idea of not outright owning things. Sometimes words come out more impressive than they actually are… anymore….?” His voice trailed off, going soft and then raising a bit at the end.

Patrick blinked. This man was fascinating. “You’re going to need to explain that in a little more detail, David.”

David rolled his eyes back in his head and stared up at the ceiling. “Okay, fiiine.” He glanced back down and smiled an adorable half-smile at Patrick before he started playing with his rings again.

“I used to be really rich. Well, my parents were, and then by default, my sister and I were. A couple years ago my dad’s business manager screwed us over by never filing taxes, and the feds came and took everything.” He paused, sighing. “Anyway, back when I was a kid, my dad bought a town for me as a joke. Up in Canada? He’s Canadian—Dad, I mean. Mom isn’t, she’s from here. Well, not _here_ , but L.A? She’s an actress. Well, was? _Was_ an actress. Technically, she still is, I guess, if you count bad Bosnian movies on Interflex as acting?”

Patrick’s brain barely moved fast enough to keep up with that barrage of information, spoken in David’s charming, hesitant way—so many questions that weren’t actually questions. When he finally caught up, something clicked into place. A memory of something on the news back home.

He held up his hand. “Wait. Hold up. I know this story.” He stared at David, eventually dredging up an ancient memory from the depths of his subconscious. “Wait a minute. David… _Rose_? Holy shit, you’re David Rose.”

David’s face reddened. “That would be me, yes.”

“OhmyfuckingGOD,” Patrick breathed out, then laughed. “I used to work at a Rose Video.”

David’s face morphed into a look of pure horror. “You did _not_. They’re up in Canada.”

Patrick nodded. “They are. Which is where I lived. Until,” he stared at his watch. “Oh, about twenty-two hours ago.”

“Well, that explains why you’re so nice,” David said primly, straightening out the fabric over his knees with his index fingers.

Patrick huffed out a laugh, thinking back. “Oh, I had _such_ a crush on you, David.”

David’s head whipped up, surprise evident in his eyes. “What?! You did? When?”

“In high school. When I worked there. They used to send around holiday videos to the stores. Remember those? _From Our Family to Yours_.”

David shuddered. “Oh my god, I’d blacked that memory out. _Those_ caused you to have a _crush_ on me? If that’s true, I should be worried.” David still had the horrified look on his face, but the laughter was back in his voice.

Patrick smiled. “Well, to be fair, I probably didn’t realize it was a crush at the time. That only occurred to me right now. At the time, I just thought you were fascinating.” He cocked his head. “I still do, it seems.”

David blushed again, opening his mouth to respond, but there was a loud buzz from the intercom by the front door. He grimaced and jumped up. “Hold on, food’s here. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Rushing to the door, David slipped out, leaving Patrick alone in the apartment.

He looked around, trying to process everything that had happened in less than a day. It was a _lot_ —but he wouldn’t change any of it. Not if David fucking _Rose_ stayed a part of his life.


	6. Sharing is Caring

David shut the front door behind him and leaned against it for a second, drawing in a shaky breath. Whatever was happening in there, it wasn’t anything he remotely expected when he woke up yesterday morning.

Somehow, in the course 24-hours, everything had changed—gotten a little brighter?—which seemed ridiculous because that was _not_ the way his life normally worked.

Still, even though his neck and back hurt from sleeping on the couch and he was heading downstairs to meet a delivery guy _without_ having checked his hair first, he felt—well, _okay_ about it—which was definitely unprecedented.

He had too much nervous energy to take the elevator, so he jogged down the three flights of stairs to grab the food. Bag in hand, he started to head back up the stairs, but stopped and turned around. There was only so much exercise he really wanted to complete in one day, especially when he was _hungry_. The elevator was faster—both for eating _and_ seeing Patrick again. He pushed the up button, smiling to himself.

The doors opened with a bing and Stevie stepped out. She eyed him, her eyes narrowing, before she grinned and raised her eyebrows.

“Soooo? How was last night? You still have company?”

“Yes,” David snapped. “And I need to get back to him, so if you don’t mind….” He made a move to go around her into the elevator, but she blocked him until the doors closed again.

“Wait a sec. You look happy. What’s going on?”

“ _Nothing_ is going on. We were just talking, but food got delivered, so I had to grab it.”

She eyed his bag. “You only ordered yourself food?”

David looked down at the take out container. “No. It’s pancakes. I’m going to share.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re going to _share_ your breakfast? Who are you, and what have you done with David?”

“You _know_ they always give me too much. I just end up shame eating them all. Patrick will be doing me a favor.”

“Oh, I’m sure he _will_ be, alright.” Stevie waggled her eyebrows. “Doing you a favor.” She whispered the last word, drawing out the syllables.

David rolled his eyes. “Lick rust, Stevie.” He moved past her and pushed the elevator button again. It hadn’t moved, so the doors opened right away.

She laughed and ducked back inside the elevator, pushing the button to keep them open. “Wait.”

“What?” David asked, getting more annoyed he wasn’t already back upstairs with Patrick.

Stevie’s eyes grew serious, but she still had a small smile playing around her lips. “I like this for you.”

“You _like_ this? What’s _that_ supposed to mean. There’s nothing to like.”

“I beg to differ. You like him.”

“I don’t _know_ him.”

“Not yet, but you still like him.”

David sighed. “Can you please let go of the button so I can go back upstairs and eat my breakfast in peace?”

She grinned and let go, hopping back out into the lobby. As the doors started to shut, she used her foot to keep them from closing completely.

“For the love of fuck, Stevie, just let me go back upstairs!” David cried.

“Just one more thing, and then I gotta head to rehearsals.”

“What?”

“He’s a business major. A business major who just got here and has nowhere to live and no job yet. Just sayin’.”

David’s annoyance disappeared, replaced by confusion. “What?” he repeated.

Stevie grinned and removed her foot. The doors shut.

David stared at his reflection in the metal door as the elevator made its way up to his floor. His hair was a complete mess, he was still wearing pajamas and glasses, and he hadn’t had a chance to use any eye cream last night. Groaning, he tried to tame his clown hair and pressed his palms to his eyes, hoping to ease some of the puffiness going on there.

The doors to the elevator opened and David stepped out, stopping for a second to glance at the door at the other end of the short hallway, an idea forming in his head. Then he turned and opened his door.

Patrick sat on the couch, his body turned slightly as he looked out the window into the New York morning. David sucked in a breath. Patrick’s face bathed in the soft light of morning was a thing of beauty. David briefly considered painting it, but then Patrick turned and smiled at him. David stopped thinking. He blinked, words forgotten. Instead, he rushed into the kitchen to grab two forks, trying to push down his growing anxiety.

“I hope you like pancakes?” he asked, walking back to the couch and setting the container on the coffee table. He handed Patrick a fork.

Patrick hesitantly took it. “Are we sharing?”

David nodded. “Mmhmm. You look like you have a clean mouth.”

Patrick flashed him a quick smile. “Excuse me? A clean mouth?”

David shrugged. “Some people look like they have clean mouths and some people look like they have sloppy mouths.”

Patrick’s smile grew larger. “What if I think you have a sloppy mouth?”

David sat back, offended. “Then I guess you don’t get breakfast.”

“Touché,” Patrick said, chuckling. “I’m kidding. You look like you have a very clean mouth.”

David warmed a bit inside. “Thank you. Now I’ll allow you to share.”

They stared at each other for a minute before David started to feel out of sorts again. Clearing his throat, he turned and popped open the container. “Dig in and let’s talk, okay?”

Patrick nodded and waited for David to take a bite first. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me about yourself. Stevie said you’re new in town?”

Patrick nodded. “Literally just drove down yesterday.”

“What brought you here? Job?”

Patrick grimaced. “No. Haven’t gotten that far yet. I just needed to get away, so I got in my car and drove. No real plan beyond that.”

David watched him a second. “Funny. I did that once. I didn’t get as far, though. I basically stole a truck and it broke down near an Amish farm. I was stuck there for a couple days until my family found me.”

Patrick’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to need some follow-up there, David.”

David stared up at the ceiling, trying to think about how to go about explaining the craziness of the last couple years. “Okay, so.” He glanced back down at Patrick and took another bite of food. “I told you that my dad bought me a town as a joke when I was a kid?”

“Yes, also gonna need more information about that.”

“Mmhmm, sure,” David said, smiling. “Well, it’s a tiny little town up in Canada, near Elmdale. Dad bought it because he thought the name was funny.”

Patrick’s hand paused above the pancakes. “Wait. I know Elmdale. What town are you talking about?”

“Schitt’s Creek? You heard of it? It’s really small.”

Patrick let out a wheeze of laughter. “Really inappropriate welcome sign? Yeah, I know it.”

David grinned. “Yeah, that fucking sign.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we lost everything when the feds came, but they let us keep that town. We ended up moving there. Lived there for a couple years, then finally ended up selling it.”

“Really? _You_ lived there?” Patrick eyed David up and down. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

David laughed. “Oh God. It wasn’t… at first. It grew on me. I couldn’t wait to leave when we first got there. We all _hated_ it. When it finally sold, I thought we’d all bail, but that didn’t end up happening. Dad took over the motel we lived in, wound up buying a couple others in the area. He’s now working on building a chain of roadside motels, apparently. My sister got married to the town vet. Mom is still on the fence about it all, but she’ll stay wherever Dad is.”

“If it grew on you, and they’re all still there, why are you in New York?”

David shrugged. “I wanted to do something for myself. Something felt like it was missing. My parents basically funded my entire career before we lost everything. I wanted to move back here and prove I could make it on my own. I brought Stevie with me.”

Patrick’s eyebrows raised. “Stevie? The bartender?”

“Mmhmm. She’s my best friend. I couldn’t leave town without her, so I convinced her to come. Didn’t take much convincing. She wanted to try her hand at Broadway.” David laughed. “She’s not quite there yet. She’s doing what we’d lovingly call _Broadway Adjacent_. Very adjacent. Like, a whole different county kind of adjacent.”

Patrick frowned. “So, you came back to New York with your best friend and bought a building in midtown? If you lost everything, how did you manage to pull that?”

“Well, we sold the town for a decent price. Technically, I was the official owner, but we split the money in thirds—me, my parents, and Alexis. I got enough out of it to at least put a down on this place and do some upgrades. The club makes enough that I can pay the mortgage. Stevie helps when I need her to. She can manage it. She owns a part of my dad’s motel _empire_.” David laughed at the use of the word and then glanced at Patrick. “Actually, I’m bouncing an idea around, if you’re interested.”

“What’s your idea?” Patrick asked.

“I need a business manager.”


	7. New Opportunities

Patrick stared at David, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Had he just heard right?

“I’m sorry, what?”

David smiled and grimaced at the same time. That was the best way Patrick could describe the expression currently taking over David’s face. It was adorable.

“Sorry. That probably came way out of left field, huh? You must think I’ve lost my mind.” David’s foot tapped rapidly against the floor while he played with the silver rings on his hand, spinning them in relentless circles. Biting his lip, he jumped up and headed to the window.

Patrick watched him, fascinated. The man was constantly in motion. It must be exhausting to _be_ him. Patrick was pretty certain he’d never be exhausted observing him. He set down his fork and got up, following David to the window. They both looked out onto the street below for a while before Patrick spoke.

“A bit unexpected, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to hear you out.” He faced David, waiting for him to continue.

David finally turned, his expression both hopeful and wary. “Really?” His voice was soft, careful—like he couldn’t believe Patrick was willing to listen.

Patrick wasn’t sure how one simple word could make him want to drop everything and take care of someone he barely knew—but yet, here he was, slowly sinking into some kind of David-induced quicksand. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, that much was certain. Shaking his head, he laughed softly to himself.

_Huh. Well, this is new._

David’s head tilted to one side. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

_Yeah, not putting any of that out in the world. I’m losing it._

David watched him for a second, his dark eyes assessing behind those equally dark frames. Then he nodded curtly and looked back out the window. “Never mind, it’s a silly idea anyway.”

Without thinking, Patrick reached out and touched David’s arm, trying to get him to turn back around. At some point during David’s fidgeting episode, he’d pushed his sleeves up, so Patrick’s reaching hand found bare, warm skin.

They both froze.

Touching someone’s forearm shouldn’t have been as life-altering as it was. Electric heat shot up Patrick’s spine and his fingers involuntarily clenched around the velvet expanse of skin under his palm.

David gasped.

The sound _did_ things to Patrick. He swallowed shakily, trying to order his body to relinquish its hold on David’s arm.

His body didn’t listen.

Instead, it decided to defy him. His thumb moved of its own accord, lightly rubbing back and forth over a soft spot on David’s wrist.

David looked down at his arm, then up at Patrick’s face. His pupils were blown out behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

 _Oh_. Oh God, that was _really_ sexy.

Patrick quickly let go and stepped back before he did something rash—before he made a fool of himself by wrapping his arms around a stranger and kissing him like his life depended on it.

Clearing his throat, he stared back out at the street and tried to focus his heartbeat back into some sort of a normal rhythm.

What the fuck had just happened? He’d never reacted like that to _anyone_ before—not even Rachel, not even then things were good between them.

“Um, sorry,” he managed to mutter.

It took David a bit to answer and when he finally did, his voice was hesitant, rough. “It’s okay.”

Patrick shook his head, resisting the urge to scrub his face with his hands. He was keyed up and frustrated, but also really wanted to hear what David had to say.

“David. What’s your idea? I want to hear it.” He glanced back at him and their eyes met. “Besides, I don’t have a lot of options here. My next step is to go find a room at a hotel in a cheap part of town and see how long I last before I find a job.”

David’s eyes widened. “Having lived for two years in a cheap _motel_ , I don’t recommend that course of action, especially not here in New York. You’d wind up being ax murdered, or something.” Despite his words, David’s expression went soft, like he remembered something pleasant.

Patrick wasn’t sure how he knew, but he _knew_. “You miss it.”

Surprise flickered across David’s face. “Being ax murdered?”

Patrick laughed and pointed to the couch. “No. You miss the motel, and your family probably. Can we sit? I really do want to talk about all this.”

David nodded jerkily. “Sure. Sure. Let’s sit.” He turned and bolted to the couch, grabbing his fork and stuffing his face with a large bite of undoubtedly cold pancakes.

Patrick covered his mouth with his hand and grinned. For as ridiculously hot as David was, he didn’t seem to have the self-confidence he absolutely _should_ have. It was endearing, really—and made Patrick want to spend a good amount of time proving to David _just_ how hot he was.

_Good God, get a grip, Patrick. He offered you a job, not a relationship._

Making his way to the couch, he sat down next to David and cleared his throat. “So. Business manager?”

David nodded and took another bite of pancake. At the rate he was scarfing them down, Patrick wasn’t going to get any breakfast, but he really didn’t care. He’d stay hungry if it meant he got to watch David be so unbelievably cute.

“Yes,” said David, between bites. “So, the club is doing well. It’s just—I am not the best person to handle the finances or the paperwork side of things. I’ve been trying, but it’s not something I ever really learned, you know?” He shrugged. “I always had people do it for me? I’m a big-picture, idea person. I can visualize the thing—what I want it to be, how I want it to look. But, boring details like taxes and permits are less interesting to me.” He glanced at Patrick. “I assume if you’re a business major that you’re good at those types of things?”

Patrick nodded, but then frowned. “How’d you know I was a business major?”

“Oh. Stevie just told me? Downstairs. When I picked up the pancakes.”

Patrick sat back in surprise. “Stevie was still here? This morning?”

David nodded. “She has an apartment on the second floor. This is the third.” He set his fork down. “That leads me to the other part of my offer. This may sway you.”

Patrick was pretty certain he was already swayed, but he kept his mouth shut and nodded. He wanted David to keep talking. He loved listening to David talk.

David stood and motioned for Patrick to follow. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Patrick followed David out the front door and down a short hallway to another door. “What’s this?”

David shot him a bashful smile. “Well, I own the building, so that means I own everything that comes with it. What came with it, besides the club and bar, is a few apartments. I took the biggest one, obviously, and Stevie took one downstairs—mainly because she didn’t want me to be able to make fun of her sex life—so, this one is still, um, available.”

Patrick’s breath stalled and he stared in shock as David unlocked the door with a small key ring he took out of his pocket. The door opened, and David stepped aside, holding out his arm. “After you.”

Patrick walked in and David flipped on the light. The apartment was small, really just a studio, and filled with a random assortment of furniture and boxes. It needed a good cleaning, definitely needed updating, but it had good bones. Patrick fell in love with it immediately.

“What’s all the stuff? Did you inherit someone else’s junk?”

David blushed. “Partially. We’ve been using it for storage. Whenever either of us replaces furniture, we throw the old stuff in here. I’ve been keeping some of my clothes in here, too—obviously I’ll move them—but you’re welcome to keep anything else you might want. Until you can get your own stuff, that is. Whatever you don’t want, we can move down to the basement.”

Patrick slowly spun in a circle, taking in the place. It was kind-of perfect. Still….

"What’s the catch?”

David smiled that scrunchy half-smile that Patrick already couldn’t get enough of. “Consider it a perk of being an employee. You’d still pay rent, of course. Even Stevie does. But, I won’t charge you as much as anywhere else in the city, even in the bad parts, and you’d get a salary working for me. We can discuss terms later, if you’re interested.”

Patrick thought about it. “What if I—“ He bit his lip and watched David intently, thinking, until the other man turned red and looked away.

“What if you what?”

“I might have an idea. It was something I kicked around on the way down here. Things I’d looked into before leaving. What if I were able to get some grants—to help the business? If I were able to bring in some decent capital, would you maybe be interested in going into business with me? Instead of paying me a salary, I’d just take a portion of the profit—we can work out percentages later—but, if we do that, maybe not charge me rent? We’d call this a perk of being a partial business owner?” He spread his arms, indicating the apartment.

Patrick knew it was a risk. David could turn him down flat, and then he’d be out this opportunity—but looking into David’s dark eyes, he didn’t think he would say no. There was interest there... respect, even.

“Um, okay? I’m open to considering your business proposition. But, obviously, you know if you don’t get the money, then—“

“Oh, I’m going to get the money,” Patrick said, cutting him off.

He’d never been so sure of anything in his life.


	8. Unexpected Reactions

David’s heart thumped once behind his ribs, hard, and his stomach did some kind of weird swooping thing. It was an unfamiliar feeling, especially lately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this much of a charged attraction for someone. Patrick’s take charge attitude about the money certainly didn’t put a damper on it, either. If anything, David had a _harder_ time keeping his hands off the mystifying man standing in front of him.

“Um, okay,” David murmured. “That’s good then.” Not knowing what else to say, he stared around the apartment. “Um, since we’ve come to some sort of agreement, we can probably start moving some of this stuff out of here... if you want?”

He glanced at Patrick, who stared around the apartment with a look of wonder on his cute, little button face.

God, he sounded like Alexis. He needed to calm the fuck down.

“I don’t have any furniture, so I’ll probably keep the majority of this, actually.” Patrick turned back to David and grinned. “I doubt I’ll need your clothes, though. We should probably move those.”

David nodded. “Mmhmm. They don’t seem your style. No mid-range denim in the whole lot of it,” he teased, feeling a little less weird. Teasing he could handle. Teasing was his wheelhouse. He drew in a shaky breath and tried to center himself a bit more. Then he frowned. “Wait. Where _is_ your stuff? You didn’t have anything with you when you came into the bar last night.”

Patrick ducked his head, regarding David under pale lashes. It almost looked flirtatious. David’s heart knocked against his ribs again.

“You noticed me when I came into the bar?” Patrick’s voice was soft, filled with a smile.

David bit his lip and looked at the kitchen cabinets—the ceiling—anywhere but at Patrick’s face. “Um, well, you looked a bit out of your element. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t check up on you?”

“And did you? Check up on me?”

David’s gaze shot back to Patrick as his blood sizzled. Patrick was definitely flirting now. “Seems so, since you slept in my bed last night.”

David hadn’t meant for that to come out quite so suggestive, but he had a hard time reeling in his words on a good day and he was more than a little flustered at the moment.

Patrick’s eyes widened and he blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Um, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah, my stuff. It’s in my car,” he said, obviously wanting to change the subject.

David complied, embarrassed.

_Get a hold of your hormones, David. You’re scaring the poor guy._

Then he considered Patrick’s statement. “Wait, your car? You brought a _car_ to New York City?”

Patrick cocked his head and smiled. “Well, I didn’t feel like walking….”

David rolled his eyes. “You could have taken a bus. That’s what most people do. Hell, _I’ve_ even taken the bus, but let’s not discuss my trauma.”

Patrick laughed, the sound light enough to lift some of the tension in the room. “Oh, _let’s_ discuss it. Please?”

David lifted his hands to his mouth and smiled behind them. “Let’s just say that a bus ride with your sister and parents from L.A. to BFE Ontario isn’t the most fun of experiences.”

Patrick’s eyes went saucer-like. “They made you take the bus from Los Angeles?”

“Mmhmm, yeah. One hundred percent don’t recommend.”

Patrick grinned. “I’m going to want details, but probably later. Now that we’ve brought up the subject of my car, I guess I should move it. I don’t even know how long I was supposed to park there?”

David gasped. “Oh no. Where did you park? You’ll be lucky if you still _have_ a car. How much of your stuff was in it?”

“Um, in a parking lot, a few blocks over? I paid for overnight. And just clothes and stuff. Most everything else is still back… home. I wanted to get settled before shipping anything.”

David sighed with relief. “Oh, well, that’s probably okay then, but we should move it before they destroy your bank account. I have a parking spot that came with this place that I never use, so you can have it. But, honestly, if you want some extra cash, you should probably just consider selling your car. You won’t need it in the city.”

Patrick nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re probably right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right,” David said, grinning. Things were starting to feel a little less physically charged, finally. “Is it within walking distance?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I should go get it. Where do I park once I get here?”

“No, I’ll go with you. I could use the walk. Just give me a bit? I need to shower and get ready first. That okay?”

Patrick stared at him for a beat longer than David expected, his eyes both intense and far away. David liked that look. A _lot_. The charged air was quickly making a comeback.

Patrick cleared his throat and blinked. “Um, yeah. That’s fine. Does the water work? I probably should start cleaning up things around here while you get ready.”

“Hmm. Well, you don’t have to do that, but yes. Everything works. Let me go get you some towels and cleaning supplies.”

David turned and sprinted out of the apartment, heading back through the still open door of his. He headed to his bathroom, giving the rumpled bed a cursory glance—his body flushing hot for a second. _Patrick_ had been in there—under his sheets. David had the sudden urge to sink in them, take a deep breath, and let his mind wander. Shaking his head and groaning, he grabbed some towels from the cupboard and spun around to head back to the other apartment.

Only, it seemed Patrick had followed, because David ran straight into him, their bodies slamming against each other in the doorway to his bedroom. David stumbled backward and Patrick’s hands shot out to steady him, resting low on his hips.

David’s world went white for a second.

He jumped back, disentangling himself and trying to hide what was probably becoming an embarrassingly obvious reaction to the situation. His physical reaction to the simple touch on his arm had been bad enough. His reaction to a full-bodied hug, accidental or not, was something else entirely.

 _Fuuuuuuck_. Not good.

He shoved the towels into Patrick’s chest. “There you go. Cleaning stuff is in the kitchen, follow me.”

He skirted around Patrick and willed himself to think of something unsexy while his back was to him. _The wig wall. Women in power suits and white sneakers. Moths. Roland Schitt._ Stuttering, David’s libido took a nose dive. By the time he knelt to grab some cleaner, he was starting to feel normal again.

Standing slowly, David turned around and plastered a sunny smile on his face, hoping that it hid the turmoil going on inside his body. This was so _weird_. He wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Patrick stared at him, his eyes darker than normal. Most of the hazel was hidden behind the black of his pupils, and oh _man_ , was that sexy. Maybe David wasn’t the only one who had some kind of reaction back there—aaaaand his libido came roaring back. God _dammit_.

“Um, I really need to get ready. I’m afraid of what will happen to your car if we don’t go grab it. Give me like half-hour?” David asked. He did his best to not sound like he was pleading, but dear God, he needed to get away from Patrick for a little bit.

Patrick nodded and grabbed the cleaner. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Turning, he rushed out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

David stared at the closed door, his thoughts spinning. Then he swallowed and headed in to take a shower. Probably a _very_ cold one.


	9. Welcome to the Gun Show

Patrick scrubbed at the kitchen counter with more vigor than it probably deserved. He’d already organized the furniture into some sort of a normalized pattern and stacked multiple boxes of what looked like sweaters next to the front door.

Really, he wouldn’t need much to make this place livable. Either David or Stevie—or maybe both—rotated through furniture a _lot_. There was a full mattress and box spring (he’d need to buy bedding), a dresser drawer, a well-worn couch and older coffee table, a small retro dining table in red, and a couple shelving units. Nothing matched, but Patrick didn’t really care. It was all functional, and as far as he was concerned, far more than he expected to have at his disposal so soon after getting to the city.

Really, it was almost like he was in the middle of a fever-dream.

How was he standing in a cozy apartment he could potentially be living in rent-free, just down the hall from the hottest, most intriguing human he’d ever laid eyes on? Less than a week ago he’d been in Ontario, unhappily engaged to someone he couldn’t envision marrying, no matter how hard he tried. Someone who never once made him feel _at all_ the way he'd felt since meeting David.

Things like this didn’t happen to him. He was way out of his comfort zone, but he still didn’t want to leave.

He scrubbed the counter harder, trying to release some of his keyed-up energy. He'd been waiting far longer than a half an hour, but he never expected someone like David to get ready so quickly anyway. Patrick was honestly grateful for the longer reprieve.

It wasn’t like it was a hardship being around David—in fact, it was the complete opposite. Patrick was pretty sure he wanted to _always_ be around him, but still… he was grateful for the break. He’d been coming out of his skin, just being near him, and that unexpected full body contact nearly scrambled his brains. It had felt so _fucking good_. Just that flash of contact, chest to thigh, all hardness and angles, and Patrick nearly incinerated from the inside out.

The thing was, he was pretty sure it affected David the same way, which was _crazy_. How could someone as uninteresting as him interest David like that? It seemed impossible, but Patrick had _felt_ definite interest in that quick few seconds of contact. He’d seen how David’s eyes had darkened, how his expression had gone intent and hungry before he pulled back and ran into the kitchen.

Patrick sucked in a shuddering breath, remembering that look—and the feel of David’s body against his—and scrubbed harder.

“I’m not sure the counter can withstand that kind of treatment.” The soft voice behind him made Patrick jump and spin around.

David stood lounging in the doorway. Gone was the morning, sleep-rumpled look that Patrick had already grown used to. Instead, it was replaced by the man Patrick first saw in the club, all quirky sophistication and almost inhuman beauty. David seemed far more relaxed than he had when Patrick saw him last. The tightness around his eyes and lips was gone, replaced by a drowsy look and a shy, happy smile.

“Someone’s been busy,” David continued, looking around the apartment. He turned back to Patrick, his lips still lifted in a soft smile. “It looks good.”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah, I um… I wanted to get some stuff done.”

“I see that,” said David, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready to head out? I’m sorry I took so long.”

“It’s okay. It gave me time to take care of things around here.” He looked David up and down, drinking him in. “You look really nice.”

He honestly did. His hair was back up in that tall, smooth style, and he no longer wore his glasses. The fuzzy, jet black sweater he wore was a little on the tight side and emphasized the lean muscles roping across his chest and arms. He wore tight black jeans, ripped at the knees, and black Chucks. The relentless monochrome of his outfit made his skin and dark eyes stand out even more than they normally did, and Patrick stopped breathing for a second. David was both adorably eccentric and the hottest thing Patrick had ever seen.

David’s cheeks went pink. He looked pleased. “Well, thank you. So do you.”

Patrick glanced down at himself. He still wore his jeans from last night and David’s white tee shirt, which was currently covered in brown streaks from lifting dusty boxes.

“Um, I know you’re lying. It was pretty dirty in here. I should change my shirt.”

David grinned. “I was trying to be nice.”

Patrick laughed. “Give me a second and I’ll wash up. I think my shirt from last night is still at your place, though.”

“Oh, you don’t have to wear that. I’ll grab you another tee shirt. Be right back.”

David disappeared and Patrick felt the loss of his energy almost immediately. He shook his head, scrubbed his face with his hands, and headed into the bathroom to wash up.

He’d just pulled off the dirty tee shirt when there was a soft knock at the bathroom door. He opened it without thinking, his brain still fuzzy with lust.

David stood there, holding another white tee shirt. He took in Patrick’s bare chest and his eyes widened, the dark slashes of those perfect eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. “Uh, well… _hello_ ,” he said, his voice high-pitched and breathy.

Patrick grabbed the shirt out of David’s still outstretched hand and shut the door with a bang. “I’m _so_ sorry! I wasn’t thinking. I’m pretty sure I’m still half asleep. I didn’t mean to flash you like a dirty pervert.”

David’s laugh filtered through the door, his voice amused. “That’s perfectly okay. Who am I to turn down a gun show?”

Patrick softly thumped his head against the door. His cheeks burned and he’d never been so embarrassed in his life. He literally just met this man less than twenty-four hours ago and he’d already managed to flash him, rub his body all up against him, and spend the better part of the last hour imagining all sorts of scenarios in which both those things happened quite frequently.

“Is it okay if I just stay in here for the rest of the day?” Patrick’s voice came out strangled, but he couldn’t help it.

David laughed again, the sound soothing Patrick’s nerves a bit.

“Patrick, it’s okay. I’ve seen bare chests before, and trust me, yours is up there in the top five. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I should be _thanking_ you. Best thing I’ve seen all week.”

“Jesus,” Patrick muttered to himself, still dying inside. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was bright red, hair standing up in spikes, and his eyes looked glassy. “I’ll be out in a second,” he called, raising his voice.

Scrubbing his face and hair with a washcloth, he tried his best to smooth down the wayward cowlicks. He pulled the soft, white tee shirt on, all while trying not to imagine that at some point, this same shirt probably clung to David’s body. Closing his eyes briefly, Patrick grabbed the knob and opened the door.


	10. New Beginnings

David stared at the bathroom door, blinking. What the hell just happened? He’d literally planned on handing Patrick one of his old tee shirts so they could leave, and next thing he knew, he was within touching distance of the best set of pecs he’d seen in quite some time.

He alternated between being very turned on and very, very amused. Patrick had looked _horrified_. The embarrassment radiating from behind the door was fucking palpable. David decided he needed to say something to make it better, otherwise there was a good chance that Patrick would never leave the damn bathroom.

“Patrick, it’s okay. I’ve seen bare chests before, and trust me, yours is up there in the top five. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I should be _thanking_ you. Best thing I’ve seen all week.”

He wasn’t lying. Well, maybe a _little_. It was actually the best thing he’d seen all year, if he really thought about it. Maybe a few years—since before they lost everything. He’d had models and actors at his disposal then, and they had lots of idle time to spend in the gym, honing their physiques—so yeah, David had seen some really spectacular chests in his day.

Patrick’s was right up there.

He blinked again, unsure of what to do with the sudden energy thrumming through his body. A soft thumping started from behind the door and David stared at it, perplexed, then shook his head and made himself move. If he stayed standing there any longer, there was a good chance he’d try and open the door to see more of that pretty, pretty skin.

He wandered over to one of the boxes by the door, his fingers trailing across the cardboard. He’d been storing a bunch of his older sweaters in here, but now he’d need to find them a new home in the building. If he were a stronger person, he’d be able to get rid of them, take them to a consignment shop, but he just couldn’t. The sweaters were a solid, tangible link back to the time before—to the life he’d lost forever. He didn’t necessarily miss that life, but at the same time, he felt like he still was missing _something_ in his current set-up.

Three years ago, the thought of living with his family in close quarters would have made his skin break out in hives—like he’d eaten a pitted fruit—but now? Now that he lived hundreds of miles away from them, back in New York—back where he thought he belonged? He just felt sad. And alone. Even though Stevie was here, it still wasn’t enough to soothe the hurt behind his ribs. If she _hadn’t_ come along, though? David wouldn’t have lasted a week. He’d have gotten on a bus and headed right back up to that damn motel.

Blinking away sudden wetness behind his eyes, he turned to inspect the apartment. Patrick had done a great job in a pretty short period of time. It looked more like a living space and less like a catch-all for junk. It would be nice to finally have a neighbor. David still hadn’t completely forgiven Stevie for choosing an apartment on a different floor. This wouldn’t be like having his parents a connecting door away—or having his sister within whispering distance, but still—it was something.

David glanced back at the bathroom door and remembered the compact body currently hiding behind it. _Fuck. Right. Patrick._ Yeah, having Patrick down the hall definitely was _nothing_ like having his parents next door. His morning shower already proved that to him. There was a _reason_ it took over an hour to get ready, and it had nothing to do with his skin routine.

He honestly thought he’d managed to work all of the keyed-up energy out of his system. He’d finally walked back to the other apartment satiated and relaxed—ready to face the rest of the day. And it had worked—until Patrick opened that damn door minus a shirt, and all that energy came roaring back, just like it had never left.

Groaning, David made his way over to the couch and sat down, trying to sort out his next move. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think on it long because the bathroom door slowly opened and Patrick stepped out.

His hair was damp and his cheeks were still pink, and David realized he was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a very long time. He wanted to go give Patrick a hug and kiss him on top of that head of slightly curly hair—to let him know it was okay and not to feel embarrassed—and what a weird thing _that_ was to feel for a perfect stranger.

Clearing his throat, David smiled. “Are you ready to go?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. Look, I’m really sorry about—”

David waved his hand. “No. Seriously, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Already forgotten.”

That was a lie. He was never going to fucking forget. Patrick’s muscles were imprinted behind his eyelids, probably forever.

Patrick nodded jerkily. “Okay. Thank you for this. For helping with the car, and for this apartment, and the job—”

David shook his head. “Hey, you’re getting me more money for this place, remember? Consider all this a down payment for the investment opportunity.”

Patrick smiled. “Okay.” He walked a couple steps closer and stopped, staring down at David with those earnest, honey colored eyes. “Thank you, David.”

David’s heart hiccuped in his chest. That couldn’t be good. “For what?”

“For being a good person.”

David laughed. “Okay, now you’re _really_ getting carried away. We should go. I shudder to think about the amount of money you’re spending every minute. The car parks around here are not friendly to tourists.”

“Hey, not a tourist anymore. I’m an employed man.”

“Mmhmm. Tell that to your meter.”

Patrick smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, up you go.”

David stared at the outstretched fingers, debating for a second before he finally grabbed them and let Patrick pull him up off the couch.

 _Oh_. Yeah, the electric current from earlier wasn’t a fluke.

Patrick’s fingers flexed around David’s, squeezing tight for a second before he finally let go and shoved his hands in his jean pockets.

David watched their course, his own hand still tingling. When he glanced back up at Patrick, the other man stared at him like he was some kind of highly anticipated gallery showing.

“What?” David asked, both embarrassed and flattered. That was a hell of an expression focused on him.

Patrick shook his head. “Nothing.” He smiled a sweet smile at David, honest and open. “Let’s get the stupid car, and then you can show me around New York?”

David nodded. He’d never heard of a better idea.


	11. Thoughts Over Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today (10-11). We'll see if I manage to finish another tomorrow. Thanks for sticking with this!

Patrick had never enjoyed himself so much in his entire life. Hanging out with David was a goddamn revelation. He didn’t know something could feel so _right_. They’d just met, but Patrick felt a level of comfort he’d never had with Rachel, or anyone really. Something finally clicked into place inside him, and it had _everything_ to do with the tall, impossibly gorgeous man currently talking a mile a minute across the table, his hands in constant motion as he spoke.

Patrick grinned. He couldn’t help it. David stopped talking mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes.

“What? Why do I get the feeling you’re making fun of me?”

Patrick shook his head. “Never. Eat your pizza, David.”

David huffed, but took a bite, watching Patrick with those dark, dark eyes. “Fine. But only because it’s excellent pizza.”

“It is. Thank you for bringing me here.”

David smiled, looking pleased. “It’s the best in New York, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve tried _every_ pizza place in this city, and nowhere else even comes close to this one.”

“So, what I’m hearing you say is that you really like pizza.”

David grinned, the dimples appearing for a second. “One might say that.”

“Mmhmm. So, you plan on experiencing any _other_ bests with me today?”

 _Oh_. That came out far more suggestive than he meant it to.

David’s mouth dropped open and his cheeks went pink. He blinked and then shook his head. “Um. Haven’t decided yet. Let’s see where the moment takes us. How’s that sound?”

Patrick’s hands began to tremble, so he let them drop to his sides, hiding them under the table. “That sounds as excellent as this pizza.”

David smiled again, but this time it was softer. He gazed at Patrick with an inscrutable expression that made the trembling move its way up Patrick’s arms and settle into his chest, exploding with warmth.

Oh, he had it _bad_.

David looked away and Patrick could breathe again. He didn’t even realize he’d stopped until he was suddenly sucking in a lungful of garlic and oregano-filled air, trying not to gasp out loud.

David’s voice was hesitant. “Um, we have to get back to the club at some point, though. There are things to do before we open, and I probably should give you a tour before people start showing up.”

Patrick nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. How busy is it, usually?”

“Pretty busy, actually. We’ve got a great location and it draws people in. I really lucked out when I found the place. It used to be a bodega, but some of the larger chains forced it out of the area. I managed to convince the owner to sell it to me for a decent price. He really just wanted out. Plus, he knew who I was. I guess he’s a big fan of my mom’s work on _Sunrise Bay_.” David shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I think the personal call she gave him sealed the deal for me.”

“Aww, she did that for you? That was nice.”

David rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. “I’m sure it was less to do with helping me, and more to do with receiving accolades from a fan. My mom can’t resist having people tell her how great she is.”

“Oh, I’m sure she did it for you,” Patrick said, certain of that. How could she _not_? Patrick already wanted to do everything he could for David, all the time. Small things, big gestures—all of it. He just wanted David to be happy.

“You don’t know my mother,” David said, laughing.

“I’d like to. Meet your family, that is.”

David stopped laughing. He looked shocked.

Patrick bit his lip, uncertainty taking over. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that out loud. Not really taking things slow with declarations like that.

Then, a huge, open smile overtook David’s face. His eyes sparkled and he giggled. He _giggled!_ It was the cutest thing Patrick had ever seen.

“Oh, you’re going to regret saying that, believe me! But, if we’re going to be in business together, I’m sure you’ll meet them before too long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Patrick’s hands were full on shaking now. He vibrated with the need to lean across the table and kiss that smile off David’s face.

_Jesus Christ._

Coughing, he nodded. “I’ll take my chances.”

“I’m holding you to that. Once we have a contract, you can’t back out, not even when you have to deal with Alexis.”

“What’s she like?” Patrick asked.

David gazed across the shop, his expression affectionate. “I used to worry about her all the time. Before—well, before we lost everything—she’d get herself in these impossible situations. Really crazy stuff. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. Every once in a while she surprises us with a story we’ve never heard before. I thought I knew all the shit she got up to, but apparently not.” David shrugged. “There were times when I didn’t hear from her for weeks that I honestly started to think maybe something really bad had happened. That maybe I didn’t have a sister anymore.”

David’s eyes misted over and Patrick couldn’t handle it. He reached across the table and laid his hand over David’s. “Hey, but she’s okay now, right?”  
  
David startled, his gaze bouncing from their hands back up to Patrick’s face. “Um, yes. She’s great now, actually.” He sighed. “Before, even when I worried about her, we weren’t that close. We grew up together, but not really. Our family isn’t the most—well, _wasn’t_ the most loving. It’s a lot better now.”

“What changed?” Patrick asked.

“We lost everything. All we had is each other. We finally learned how to be a family.” David shrugged and smiled. “Silver linings, right?”

Patrick nodded, his fondness for David growing exponentially by the second. “That’s a pretty good silver lining.”

David smiled. “Anyway, Alexis was really flighty. Superficial. So was I. Maybe I still am, but not Alexis. Somewhere along the way, she grew up. She fell in love, started a PR firm, got married. She’s happy. No need to do crazy stuff anymore. I’ve finally been able to stop worrying about her. In the long run, it’s probably much better for my skin.” The dimples appeared again as David tried to hide his self-deprecating smile.

Patrick squeezed David’s hand. “You’re wrong, you know.”

David looked up, surprised. “About what? My skin?”

“No. Your skin is perfect. I just mean that you’re not flighty or superficial.”

David’s cheeks flushed. “Well, you barely know me. You’ll change your opinion the more time you spend around me.”

“Not gonna’ happen,” answered Patrick, his voice low. “I already have you figured out.”

“ _Do_ you?” David asked, laughing, but his cheeks stayed pink. “That seems unlikely.”

Patrick smiled, but inside, his thoughts galloped around his head. He’d declared that without really thinking it through, but he somehow knew he wasn’t wrong. It really seemed like he’d known David his whole life, which was so strange. How could he feel that kind of connectedness to someone in the first instant he met him? He’d thought that sort of thing only happened in movies, not in real life—yet here he was.

“So, the club?” he asked. He needed to change the subject to something less emotionally scary.

David nodded. “Ah yes. The club. Want to head back?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah, I don’t remember much from last night. I pretty much focused on the bar the minute I walked in. Then on you, but you disappeared and then I just wanted to get drunk.” He sighed and cocked his head, watching David. “Why’d you disappear on me, anyway?”

David grimaced. “Sorry. That was for your benefit, believe me. I was keeping you off someone’s radar.”

Patrick frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Whose radar?”

David’s eyes went icy cold. Patrick hated that expression immediately. When David spoke, his voice was even colder. “A monster you’re better off not knowing.”

Patrick shivered. He didn’t like the sound of that. “So, you _didn’t_ disappear on me because you weren’t interested?”

David’s eyes sharpened, the cold disappearing in an instant. “No. Is that what you thought?”

Patrick nodded. “Why do you think I wound up drinking so much? I figured you got bored and took off.”

David laughed. “Hardly. I actually went up to the office and watched you for most of the night. And, _that’s_ something I just said to you.” David grimaced and hid his mouth behind his hands. “I promise I’m not a stalker.”

Patrick laughed. “I’m oddly flattered. However, I doubt I did anything to warrant that kind of attention. At least, I _hope_ I didn’t do anything that required you to babysit me. I feel like Stevie probably had a handle on the situation, anyway.”

“Oh, she absolutely did. And I wasn’t watching you to babysit you. You were interesting. You _are_ interesting. Plus, I wanted to make sure—certain people didn’t approach you.”

“The monster?” Patrick asked, hazarding a guess.

“Mmmmhm. Luckily, I think your Costco jeans weren’t really a stand out in the crowd last night.”

Patrick snorted. “Says the man wearing what appears to be a cashmere sweater when it’s like the dead of summer outside—and they’re not from Costco, but thank you for your helpful critique of my wardrobe.”

David grinned and shrugged. “For sure. Plus, I’ll have you know I have an image to uphold. And yes, it’s cashmere,” he said, petting his arm. “Points to you for knowing that.”

“I’m not a complete fashion victim,” teased Patrick. “I mean, I watch _Project Runway_.”

David sat back, grinning. “ _Do_ you? Well, that’s encouraging. There’s hope for us yet.”

Joy bubbled warm in Patrick’s stomach. _That_ was quite the interesting statement. “Well, I’d like to think so,” he agreed.

David smiled his lopsided smile and set his napkin on his plate. “We really should get back. If you want to be a part of this thriving nightclub business, we need to show you the lay of the land.”


	12. Red Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is long and still from Patrick's POV-- but there's smooching (finally) and the first kiss should really be from Patrick's viewpoint. 
> 
> I promise David's thoughts are coming soon.
> 
> I hope this is a good payoff for the previous very slow burn.

Patrick stared around the club, his blood buzzing. It had been a hell of a day and night, rapidly approaching the next morning, and Patrick didn’t want it to end. It all felt like some kind of dream he’d wake up from soon, and he needed to take a mental picture to remember how perfect this all felt.

The club was perfect. David was perfect. The feeling inside Patrick’s soul when that tall, dark, wild man was within eyesight— _God_. It was definitely a feeling Patrick could get used to. Everything about this situation terrified him, but the minute he tried to talk himself out of the overwhelming attraction, David showed up in his peripheral vision and any doubts Patrick had vanished.

David was so fucking _beautiful_.

But still, underneath his gorgeousness, there was this softness—and surprisingly, a whole lot of insecurity. Patrick had a hard time understanding how a man like David could even remotely be insecure about anything, but he definitely was. He was one big ball of constant worry.

Patrick saw it in the way David flitted around the club, checking up on people, making sure they were having a good time. He saw it in the way David stared at the bottles of alcohol behind the bar, ticking off mental inventory with his long, elegant fingers. He saw it in the way David’s eyes tracked around the club, his eyebrows drawn together, forehead furrowed. He looked cautious, almost scared. Then his gaze landed on Patrick and a soft smile overtook his features, the tightness around his eyes disappearing for a second before he glanced away and resumed looking worried.

Patrick wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and try to smooth out all that anxiety with his lips. Coughing at the mental image _that_ produced, Patrick took another swig of beer and sank onto a barstool.

“You’ve got heart-eyes, Brewer.”

Patrick spun around to find Stevie leaning on the counter, regarding him with a smirk.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, taking another swig of beer and praying the lights of the club were low enough that she couldn’t see how red his face most likely was. She’d caught him openly staring at David while he fantasized about where he’d like to put his _lips_ , for fuck’s sake! Patrick could only imagine what he probably looked like in that moment.

_Heart-eyes, indeed._

Stevie continued to smirk. “Oh please. You two have so much sexual energy going on that I’m surprised this place hasn’t gone up in flames. Honestly, I’m a little nauseated and embarrassed for you both. I try not to think about David like that anymore.”

Patrick’s hands stilled and he cocked his head, watching her. “Anymore?”

Stevie shrugged. “We had a thing for a minute. It was nothing serious. I think we both just hated the town we lived in and we assumed our friendship should turn into something else. We were _definitely_ wrong about that. We’re much better as friends.”

Patrick nodded, but he was having a hard time placing all the pieces together. None of it made any sense.

“Why are you telling me this? _How_ did you two sleep together, anyway?” He motioned to the bar around him. “You’re a _girl_.”

“Thank you for noticing,” she preened, then laughed. “I’m telling you because it will inevitably come up in the course of conversation around here. People talk.” She shrugged. “I wanted you to hear it from me, so you’ll believe that I don’t want David like that and he definitely does _not_ want me like that. He’s my best friend and I love him, but not like _that_ , okay?”

Patrick nodded again, still confused. “Okay? This is going to take a minute to process.” He stared around the club. “I guess I just assumed that because of all this that David was gay.” He ducked his head, embarrassed. “I guess I stupidly hoped maybe he might be interested in me like I am in him.”

Stevie sighed. “I figured this hadn’t come up yet. Fucking David.” She grabbed Patrick’s arm, bringing his focus back to her face. “Trust me, dude, he’s into you. Very much so. You aren’t reading into this wrong.”

“B-but, if you two hooked up,” Patrick continued to protest.

She shook her head. “Go talk to him. He’ll explain it to you far better than I can. It’s his life, after all. But you need to have this discussion. You need to be comfortable with who he is before you fall any further into those heart-eyes. God knows David isn’t going to start this conversation up on his own. Not with the way he looks at you. He’s probably so far in his head about this that he’s set up a camp in there.”

Patrick blinked. “Go talk to him?”

Stevie nodded. “I’ll watch the bar. Go have a conversation with him.”

Patrick turned and searched for David. He found him sitting at a table near the dance floor, gazing out at the couples with a sad, distant look. Patrick’s heart lurched into his throat. He wanted to kiss away that look. But—but, David had slept with Stevie—but she was saying that it was nothing, that David was into him. How did any of that make sense? None of it tracked.

He felt a gentle shove against the back of his shoulder blades. “Get going.” Stevie’s voice was firm, commanding, and Patrick nodded. He took another swig of beer and set the bottle down on the counter.

“Ok. Wish me luck.”

“Oh, you won’t need it.” There was a smile in her voice, so Patrick turned to find her grinning at him. “Just try to make it back down here tonight? Closing up by myself is a bitch.”

Patrick’s skin burned. “Um, okay.”

He jumped off the stool and headed toward the pretty, pretty man sitting alone at a table.

David looked up when Patrick reached him, his eyes losing that far-away, desolate look, a soft smile lightening up his face instead.

“Well, hello. Are you having a good time tonight? Getting a feel for the place?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I love the energy. This is really something, David. You’ve really created something incredible.”

David’s dimples appeared as he tried to hide his pleased smile. Patrick’s heart lurched. Oh yeah, they fucking _needed_ to talk because Patrick was fairly certain he was already completely done for. Like 100%, irrevocably _gonzo_ over this man.

 _Jesus Christ_.

Wasn’t this just his fucking luck? He literally figured out for sure that he was gay within the last couple days, and he’d already made the mistake of falling for someone who actually _wasn’t_. Could he _be_ more of a cliché? Nothing he ever did in his life was the right fucking thing to do. One series of mistakes after the other, that was Patrick Brewer’s life, apparently.

David must have seen something in his expression because his eyes darkened with that ever-present worry.

“You okay? What’s wrong?”

Patrick shook his head. “I just talked to Stevie.”

David’s eyes quickly flickered over to the bar and his eyes narrowed. “Why does that statement scare me so much? What did she say?”

Patrick scrubbed his face and stared at the ceiling for a second before he took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been agonizing over for the last few minutes.

“David, are you gay?”

There was a beat of silence and Patrick finally hazarded a glance down at David’s face. The other man was glaring in the direction of the bar, his lips set in a thin line.

“No,” he finally answered, his voice low.

Patrick’s stomach sank. He really wanted to be sick. Nothing made any sense anymore. “Oh. Oh. I guess I thought—I thought maybe there was something—going on—” He pointed between them. “Never mind. I guess I misread it. I’m sorry.”

David shook his head. “You didn’t fucking misread anything. I’m going to _kill_ Stevie.”

“But, if you’re _not_ —then how?” Patrick motioned between them again. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re _not_ ,” David answered, his voice firm. He stood up and grabbed Patrick’s arm. “Come on, let’s go talk upstairs. Too many people around here. I don’t trust them.”

The elevator ride upstairs was quiet and tense. Patrick had no idea what to say, but each ticking second felt more and more bleak. The energy around David still affected him—would probably _always_ affect him, but nothing would ever come from it.

He wanted to cry.

By the time David pulled him into his apartment and shut the door, Patrick wanted to curl into a corner and fall into a deep, depressive sleep.

“Hey, let’s get you sitting down.” David’s voice was soft, soothing. “You look like you got some heavy thoughts going on in there.” The softness of David’s finger traced across Patrick’s forehead and he closed his eyes, chasing the feeling before the sensation disappeared. Patrick opened his eyes and found David sitting across from him, eyes worried and dark.

“Yeah. Lots of thoughts,” Patrick admitted. “I’m sorry I assumed something that wasn’t true. That was shitty of me.”

David shook his head and gestured to himself. “Nothing to apologize for. I know how I come across, so it’s not exactly a surprise. This isn’t the first time people assumed I was gay. It’s totally okay, I promise.”

Patrick shook his head. “It’s _not_ , though. I should know. My whole life people have assumed I’m straight. Hell, even I assumed that.” He hung his head, feeling the weight of everything drag him down. “It really sucks.”

“I can imagine,” agreed David. “But in the case of me, just because it’s not _technically_ true, it doesn’t mean it’s not a _little_ true.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

David sighed. “I’m not technically gay, but I _am_ pan.”

Patrick stared at David, furrowing his brow. “Explain. How does that work?”

David sighed again, running his hands through his hair. “I’ll use the same analogy I used with Stevie. Well, technically, I guess it was _her_ analogy, but I ran with it.” He frowned, staring over Patrick’s shoulder blankly for a minute, his expression far away.

Patrick snapped his fingers in front of David’s face. The guy was so easily distracted. It was so fucking cute that it made Patrick’s heart hurt even more than it already did. “Hey, where’d you go?”

David’s eyes sharpened and his cheeks reddening slightly. “Sorry, anyway, where was I?”

“Analogy?” Patrick probably sounded desperate, but he felt like they were standing on the edge of something important—something potentially life-changing.

“Okay. So. Stevie really likes red wine. She’s only ever tried red wine. Most people assume, when first meeting me, that I _also_ only like red wine. However, that’s not completely true. I also like to partake in white wine… occasionally I’ve even sampled a nice blend.”

Patrick nodded, finally understanding. “So, what you’re saying is, you like the wine, not the label?”

David smiled, dimples popping. “Exactly!”

Patrick nodded again, considering. He stared at David, cataloguing his features. “Can I be honest with you, David?”

David frowned slightly and bit his lip. “Of course.”

“I’ve only ever drank white wine.”

David’s frown grew larger. “Okay?”

“But,” Patrick continued. “I think I’ve always wanted to try red. Red seems to fit my tastes better. Problem is, I could never make myself open a bottle. Or even _think_ about opening a bottle, really.” He shrugged and took a deep breath.

_Here goes nothing._

“It’s just, white is _safe_. Less scary. I know what to expect with white, even though it’s never been something I necessarily enjoy. It’s boring. Doesn’t make my stomach feel all warm inside, you know?”

“I do know, yes,” David agreed. His eyes were intent as he watched Patrick, a small smile playing about his lips. Patrick wanted to _always_ put that look there. He stared at David’s gorgeous face for a minute and then shook his head, forging on.

“Anyway, there’s this amazing bottle of red I really want to try. It’s beautiful. The most gorgeous bottle of wine I’ve ever seen, sitting there, up on a shelf. It’s tempted me, since the moment I saw it, but I’m afraid to open it. It might be too much.”

The smile dropped off David’s face and he ducked his head. “Yeah, that particular wine is too much for a lot of people. I understand.” He made a move to get up off the couch.

Patrick’s heart rate sped up and he grabbed David’s arm. “No! That’s not what I meant. I don’t think the _wine_ is too much. The wine is perfect. I’ve never seen a more perfect bottle of wine, believe me. It’s fucking incredible.”

David settled back down on the cushions, his eyes wide. He looked both pleased and shocked. Swallowing heavily, he spoke with a raspy voice. “Go on. What did you mean then?”

“I just meant, I’m afraid if I open this particular bottle of wine, it will be too much for _me_. Like, I’ll never be able to get enough of it. I’d want to drink it all the time… get drunk on it. Let go of all my responsibilities and just… partake… of this bottle all the time. For weeks. I’d become an alcoholic over this bottle of wine. It would probably ruin me for any other bottles.” The words came out in a rush, all heat and barely any thought. When his brain caught up with his mouth, he stopped talking, his cheeks burning.

_Holy shit, what did I just say?_

David stared at him, eyes still wide. He looked stunned.

Patrick grimaced and shut his eyes tight. “Sorry, that was a lot to lay on you, especially considering we just met. You probably think I’ve lost it.”

“No, please. Continue. I really like this analogy. I’d like to see where it goes.” There was a smile in David’s voice. It sent a spark up Patrick’s spine.

Patrick opened one eye and then the other. David stared at him like he’d never seen him before, his dimples prominent in his cheeks. Patrick loved those fucking dimples. They’d made such rare appearances and every time they did, Patrick wanted to kiss them—dip his tongue in them—make David moan. He shivered and stared at David’s lips, imagining that scenario.

David stared back, his eyes darkening. “What if,” he continued, since Patrick hadn’t spoken. “What if this bottle of wine wouldn’t mind you taking it off the shelf?” David’s voice was low, raspy.

Patrick shivered again. “Really? It wants that?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” David murmured, shifting a bit closer on the couch. “It’s very interested in offering you a sample taste. You know, to see if you like it?”

“I can’t imagine I wouldn’t like it.”

David moved closer. “Well, still. You should probably sample.”

“Should I?”

“Mmhmm, definitely.” David’s breath was warm on his face, his lips so fucking close that it made Patrick’s skin light up. “Just to see if it’s too much.”

“Oh, it will be,” Patrick said. “But fuck it.” He grabbed David’s face and kissed him.

The world stilled. Everything Patrick ever thought he knew shifted inward and exploded at the juncture where his lips met David’s.

In the world of kisses, this one started out pretty innocent. Patrick was too scared to introduce tongue— _Oh God, should I introduce tongue?_ But, just that simple press of skin against skin, of warm breath and sharp indrawn gasps… God, the electrical pulse crackled behind Patrick’s eyelids and sizzled his brain.

_Oh. OH!_

_This_. This is what it was supposed to feel like. All this time he spent fumbling through the vaguely unsettling sensation of kissing women—assuming he was possibly broken—and _this_ was in him all along? This feeling of heat and power and—oh God, of _want?_

And he wanted. _So_ much.

Moaning, he grabbed a handful of David’s perfect hair and tugged him closer. He needed to feel more— _something_. He wasn’t sure what. He just needed _more_.

David gasped against his lips and made some sort of little whining noise that set Patrick’s blood on fire, and then they were really kissing—deep, messy, languid—all teeth and tongues and fuck—it was definitely something more.

It was everything Patrick had been missing.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, all hands and mingling breaths and heat, but he didn’t want it to end. His hand fisted in the thick hair under his fingers, tugging harder. He wanted to fucking crawl inside David and stay there forever.

“Fuck!” David hissed, pulling back, breathing heavily.

“W-what?” Patrick gasped, reaching out to bring David’s face back to his.

David placed a large hand against Patrick’s chest. “No. Slow down.” His voice was breathless, full of a heat that belied his words.

“Did you not like it? Was it not any good?” Patrick asked, all thoughts of self-preservation destroyed from the onslaught of David’s fucking tongue. He probably sounded desperate and whiny. He _felt_ desperate and whiny.

David laughed, the sound low and needy. “Are you fucking kidding? That was _everything_.”

“Then why’d we stop?”

“Because you just told me you’ve never, uh, tried red wine before. Let’s not get drunk on the first sip, okay?”

Patrick whined. “But I want to.”

David’s eyes went dark, pupils completely blown out. “Fuck. Patrick.”

Patrick loved the sound of his name spoken in that growly voice. “Yes, please?”

David groaned and leaned forward, kissing him again, lightly this time.

It wasn’t enough. Patrick reached out and wrapped his arms around David’s neck, but David pulled back, shaking his head and breaking the kiss.

“No. We have to get back downstairs. We don’t have time for this right now.”

“Let’s make time,” Patrick begged. He was coming out of his skin with want—with _need_.

David laughed, the sound dark. “Sweetheart, there’s not enough time left in the night for what I want to do to you.”

“Oh.” Patrick’s heart stopped, then sped back up, thundering. He’d never been so turned on his life. He was dangerously close to coming in his pants, and what the fuck? From _words_? That had never happened before. “Jesus. David.”

David jumped off the couch, adjusting himself behind his jeans. Patrick’s mouth dried up and he leaned forward, like a moth to flame.

David shook his head. “No. Stay there. If you touch me again, with that _fucking look_ on your face, I cannot be responsible for what happens next. I swear to God, Patrick, I want to take my _time_ with you, okay? Let’s take this slower. Please? I don’t want to fuck this up by going too fast. This is different. You’re different.”

Patrick flopped back on the couch, David’s words soothing something hot and urgent inside him. He didn’t want to fuck it up either. He wanted to see where this went—this fucking perfect connection between them. It was definitely different.

“Okay. We can go slow,” he finally agreed.

David’s eyes lost some of the panicky desperation. He nodded and blew out a long breath. “Okay. Good. We should head back downstairs. Right now.”

Patrick nodded and stood. “Okay. But, David?”

“Yeah, what?” David’s voice was still high, breathless.

“I really fucking like red wine.”


	13. Break of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What were David's thoughts about that kiss? 
> 
> Here's a hint- he's having a bit of of meltdown.

David stared at the ceiling and willed his eyes to close. When that didn’t happen, he groaned and turned to glance at the clock.

5 a.m.

 _Fuck_.

He’d gotten zero sleep.

All night long he’d been replaying that kiss and how fucking good it felt, and the goddamn beauty of Patrick’s swollen lips when he’d finally managed to wrench himself away, and how much he’d wanted to sink back into them, and ohmy _god_. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep.

Closing the bar had been a nightmare. He was so turned on and overstimulated, and Stevie’s stupid smirk hadn’t helped things. He wanted to kill her for interfering, but at the same time, if she _hadn’t_ interfered, he’d have never experienced that fucking excellent, perfect, life-altering kiss.

It wasn’t fair when she was right.

Still, he refused to speak to her for the rest of the night. He knew it was childish, but he’d say things to Patrick, who then would turn and repeat them to her.

“Patrick, will you tell Stevie to please grab another bottle of Grey Goose from the storeroom?”

“Uh, Stevie, can you please grab a bottle of Grey—”

“Got it, yep. Patrick, can you please tell David to pull his head out of his ass and admit I did a good thing?”

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. All night long. It was juvenile, but David didn’t care. He was _mad_. And still really turned on. He wanted to yell at Stevie. He wanted to stalk down the hall, open the door to the other apartment, and slowly take Patrick apart, piece by piece. He wanted to see that _look_ on Patrick’s face again. The one that made him feel like he was a fucking sex _god_. He wanted to make Patrick scream.

 _FUCK_.

Groaning, he pushed back the covers and clenched his fists, banging them lightly on the mattress. He refused to touch himself again, no matter how much he wanted to. It was ridiculous how many times during the night he already _had_ , but none of those times ever alleviated the raw, hot _need_ thrumming through his veins.

David hated needing things. It made him feel out of control—and feeling in control was _everything_ to him these days. There had been so many times in his life where he’d felt the complete opposite. Life raged on around him, beating him up, leaving him battered on the rocks—the ocean of everyone else flowing around him, ripping him to pieces and forgetting him.

David never had controlled any of it. Not until the last couple years. Until everything changed and his family started to matter.

 _Family_.

That’s what he needed.

He grabbed his phone and sent Alexis a quick text.

**Hey. You up?**

**Just got back from a run. Why are U up?? 😮**

**Can’t sleep. Can you talk?**

The phone rang almost immediately. 

His sister’s worried voice rang loud in his ear. “David. It’s way too early for you to be awake. What’s going on? Is the club okay?”

“The club is fine. I just wanted to talk.” He paused. “And I miss you.”

She was silent a minute. “Ew, David.” There was a smile in her voice, so he knew she was pleased.

He flopped his arm across his eyes and sighed into the phone. May as well lead with what had been on his mind all night. “Um, I think I met someone, Alexis. Like really _met_ someone.

There was a quick intake of breath on the other line. “Ok, tell me everything.”

He did.

It took a while for him to find the right words to describe some of it, but by the time he finished he felt hollowed out and restless. Saying everything out loud hadn’t even come _close_ to getting rid of the overwhelming pulse of energy still raging in his body. He needed to see Patrick, but he also needed to hear what his sister had to say about it.

She was silent.

“Alexis? You still there?”

“So, this guy rolls into town and within a day, he’s living in your building, he’s potentially a partner in your business, and you’ve made out with him like you’re a senior in high school?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” David agreed.

_When she put it like that…._

“Okay, normally I’d say that you’re going too fast and you need to be careful.”

“And you’d be right to say tha—”

“ _But_ ,” she interrupted. “Something about this seems different.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Something in your voice. You know I’m going to call Stevie about this, right? I’m going to want her opinion. Then I’ll tell you what I really think you should do.”

“Ugh,” David groaned. “I wish you’d leave her out of this.”

“David, she’s your best friend. She’s _there_ with you and I’m not. She watched all this happen yesterday. I want to know what she thinks. If she’s concerned, I need to hear about it.”

“I know, I know. It’s just—”

“David. I want you to be happy, but I also don’t want you falling back into the same patterns from before. Hang tight. I’m calling Stevie.”

“It’s five a.m. She’s going to murder you.”

“I know. That’s what she gets for last night.” The call disconnected.

David stared at his phone and let out a little laugh before he rolled out of bed. May as well take a shower and get started with the day. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep, anyway.

By the time he got out and started to dry off, the bathroom was filled with steam and his phone lit up with a message.

**This is a very good thing. Go with your ♥️💋♥️**

David bit his lip and tried to push down the rush of happiness that bubbled over. Alexis would absolutely tell him if he was being an idiot.

So, maybe that proved he _wasn’t_ being an idiot about this.

He needed to see Patrick. Immediately. He needed to see if it was still the same between them.

Fuck the eye cream.

Throwing on a tee shirt and soft sleep pants, he put on his glasses and slipped out the front door. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, his nerves metallic in his mouth. He should turn back around and head inside, make some coffee and get his head on straight, but he _couldn’t_. He needed to know if that feeling from last night had been a fluke—a one-time thing, borne of anticipation and attraction, not actually— _something_ larger. They needed to talk.

He swallowed and marched down the short hallway, raising his hand and hesitating a minute before softly knocking on the door.

There was a quiet thump and the sound of footsteps, and then the door opened. Patrick stood in front of him, sleepy-eyed and rumpled, still wearing David’s white tee shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. When he saw David, his eyes went round, a mixture of awe, happiness, and surprise.

The open and honest emotion in those brown eyes made David stumble backward. His mind went blank and a faint ringing sounded in his ears.

_Oh my god. Ohgod. I need to kiss him. I’m going to kiss him. Fuck!_

“David?” Patrick’s voice was gravely, tired. “What’s wrong? It’s really earl—mmph!”

David didn’t let him finish the sentence. He crowded into his space, pushing him back into the apartment as he wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him with every ounce of frustration and need he’d agonized with the whole night.

Patrick gasped and froze. Then his hands gripped low on David’s hips, fingertips digging in. The pressure zinged across David’s nerve endings, making him breathe out a low moan.

The soft, languid way Patrick kissed him the night before disappeared in an instant. His mouth turned downright filthy and aggressive, tongue plundering as his grip pulled David’s hips closer—their bodies pressed tight together, shoulder to thigh.

“OhGod,” David murmured between kisses. “Fuck. Keep doing that.”

“Mmhmm,” Patrick agreed, shutting the door with his foot and pushing David up against it.

The heat and feel of Patrick’s hard body shoved against him as the cold door pressed against his back made David’s brain short-circuit. It had been a really long time since he’d been with anyone, and this clumsy, early morning kiss in a dusty apartment was way, way more intense than it should have been.

Patrick’s mouth left his, kissing and licking its way across his jaw before dropping to the spot where David’s neck and shoulder connected. Then Patrick bit down.

Hard.

David’s world exploded in red-hot sparks. His hips stuttered forward of their own accord, pushing his already rock-hard length against Patrick’s thigh.

Patrick whimpered and pushed back, and then David was drowning in sensation.

_OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod_

If he could just get him back to the couch….

He surged forward, shoving Patrick toward the middle of the room, manhandling him a bit more than he intended. Patrick didn’t seem to mind. He let out a high, keening noise, and then hands were _everywhere_ , touching, grabbing, brushing against—Oh _GOD_.

_Shit. Fuck, David. What are you doing?!_

David disentangled himself and jumped backward, his breath leaving his body in long, shuddering gasps as his words spilled out, his voice guttural and breathy.

“Oh God, this isn’t slow. I’m so sorry. I said I wanted to go slow and then I showed up here at the break of dawn and did— _that_ to you. Sorry. Fuck. Sorry!”

Patrick stared at him, his eyes wild and blown out with lust. He cleared his throat and gestured to his impressively tented flannel pajamas. “Do I look like I mind?”

David barked out a laugh and scrubbed his face with his hands, disrupting his glasses. Fixing them again, he took in Patrick’s appearance.

“We should talk. I absolutely just came over here just to talk to you, but then you opened the door, and then I had to kiss you, and oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“David, stop apologizing. I don’t think I’ve ever been woken up so thoroughly and impressively before. Jesus. That’s something that’s going in the memory bank, believe me.” He pointed to the couch. “We should sit.”

David nodded jerkily. “Yes. Just—just don’t get too close to me. I’m so fucking on edge. I’m trying so hard not to like—fuck—I’m trying so hard not to just take you apart with my mouth right now.”

Patrick’s jaw dropped and his eyes flashed hot. “Jesus,” He breathed out. “The way you talk.” His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed hard. “I think I’d really like that, though, David.”

David shook his head. “No. I mean it. I want to take this slow. I’ve got way too much experience jumping into physical stuff too fast and then having everything turn to shit. I—I just want this to be something else. I meant it when I said you’re different—this is already different, whatever this is between us. I’ve never felt this—this—I don’t even how to describe it.” He shrugged and sagged against the couch cushion, looking up at Patrick, trying to plead with his eyes.

Patrick nodded and sat at the other end of the couch, leaving a wide space between their bodies. “I know. I feel the same way.”

Some of the tension left David’s body. “Good. That’s good.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I’m not sure how we’re going to step back, though because fuck… you’re a really good kisser. I’m not sure how I’m going to resist you, going forward.”

Patrick shook his head. “Do we have to? I mean, we can agree to just kiss, right? Only kissing. Clothes on? I don’t want to step back, either, but we don’t have to do anything more than that. Not until we know it’s time.” Patrick blushed. “I mean, it’s not like I have a lot of experience here, anyway. I don’t know if I’m ready for all that, to be honest.” He let out a shaky laugh. “Although, I kind-of forgot about nerves a second ago. That was really—God. That was fucking hot, David.”

David nodded, squeaking out a weak agreement. “Yeah.”

“Is it—is it _always_ like that? I’ve never felt that way before. With women.”

David shook his head. “No. It’s never been like that for me. That was… yeah. That was something else entirely.”

Patrick sucked in a long breath and stared at his hands. “Okay. Okay. That’s good. That’s really good.” He glanced up at David, his gaze warm and shy behind long, pale lashes. David wanted to lean across the couch and just hold him. No kissing, no sexual stuff. He just really wanted to cuddle with Patrick Brewer.

So, he did.


	14. Naps and Pancakes

Last weekend, if anyone had asked Patrick how he’d be spending the following Sunday morning, never in a million years would he have come up with this incredible reality—sprawled out on a dusty couch, wrapped in the very solid arms of the hottest man he’d ever seen. Breathing out a long sigh, he listened to the steady thrum of David’s heartbeat and tried not to fall asleep.

Patrick had never been so relaxed… or so freaking happy, come to think of it. Everything just felt so _right_.

Usually, his idea of a perfect lazy Sunday morning involved getting up early, grabbing a beer, and turning on a game. But, that was _before_. Before everything had changed.

Mornings at the apartment with Rachel were both comfortable and uncomfortable. It was a weird juxtaposition Patrick just learned to live with. He was used to it, had basically lived with her for years—but he still felt like an outsider in his own life. He always hovered above, looking down at it while wearing a slightly itchy suit that didn’t quite fit.

He never fully understood _why_ until this moment, curled up against David, breathing in the warm scent of cedar and pine… and man.

 _This_ was what calm felt like. No more prickly sense of wrongness bubbling under the surface. No more feeling like a fraud.

This—laying here in silence with David—this was _right_.

Patrick sighed and snuggled in closer, rubbing his cheek on David’s soft tee shirt. A gentle hum rumbled from David’s chest, vibrating through Patricks’ body, and he couldn’t resist dropping a light kiss to David’s chest.

David hummed again, his arms tightening around Patrick’s waist as his breathing and heart rate momentarily sped up. Eventually he started to relax again, and Patrick listened as David’s breathing began to even out, his heart rate slowing into a soft, steady thump.

Slowly raising his head, he glanced up. David’s eyes were closed, his face peaceful. David had somehow fallen asleep on Patrick’s lumpy couch, with a man he’d met less than 48 hours ago draped across him like a blanket.

How fucking _transcendent_.

Patrick’s own heart rate sped up, so he slowly disentangled himself and rolled off the couch, letting David sleep in peace.

He padded over to his bed and grabbed a blanket. David had let him borrow bedding the night before, which meant that all night long, Patrick had been wrapped in the soft cocoon of David’s scent. He’d slept like a baby because of it.

The _least_ he could do was let David take a nap now.

Placing the comforter over David’s long, lean body, he gently removed his glasses and placed them on the coffee table. Then, he took another lingering look and grinned. Rubbing his hand through his hair, he shook his head and blinked.

“Holy shit,” he murmured to himself.

It had been a hell of a couple days.

Looking around the apartment, he realized he had absolutely nothing to eat or drink, and he wasn’t about to disturb David to see if he could raid his fridge. Quickly pulling on a pair of jeans, he grabbed his keys and wallet, and slipped out of the apartment. There was a coffee shop nearby, and he figured that they both could use some breakfast and a coffee.

The doors to the elevator slid open and he punched the button to the lobby. However, it lurched to a stop almost immediately, the doors opening to the second floor.

Stevie crowded inside and grinned up at him.

“Good morning! Where you headed?”

“I figured I’d go get some coffee and breakfast. Didn’t exactly stock up on food yesterday.”

“Oh, you should have gone over to David’s. He always has food and coffee. You could have saved some money. He’d be fine with it.” She nudged his shoulder and raised her eyebrows.

“He’s asleep. I didn’t want to wake him,” Patrick said without thinking, punching the button to the lobby again.

Stevie’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know he’s asleep?”

Patrick felt his face heat up and he cursed low under his breath.

Stevie’s eyes got huge. “What the fuuuuuck?” she whispered, her grin going Cheshire-like. “I’m going to need you to explain _that_ look.”

Patrick groaned, heading into the lobby once the doors opened. “It’s nothing. He’s asleep on my couch. I thought I’d go grab food for us before he woke up, that’s all.”

“Why is he on your couch? Why is he even over there? David never wakes up before ten. It’s only eight.”

“He came over a couple hours ago, but he wound up falling asleep.” Patrick shrugged. “The couch must be comfortable.”

“Uh, that couch was mine, and it’s anything but comfortable. You’re not telling me something. What are you not telling me?”

“Drop it, Stevie,” Patrick growled. He’d only known her a couple of days and already he sensed she was going to be impossible to keep things from.

“Absolutely _not_!” she shouted. “David Rose does not wake up that early, nor does he randomly pop over to a neighbor’s house at the break of dawn and fall asleep on their used, dirty furniture. I should know! I’ve been his neighbor for a while.”

Patrick sighed and looked down the block. “You’ll have to talk to David about that. I’m going to get coffee now.”

Stevie grabbed his arm, stopping him. She inspected his face. “You, uh, got a little stubble burn on your chin, I think… Patrick.” She sounded out his name, emphasizing the K. “Why would _that_ be the case, do you think?”

Patrick’s couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out to touch his face, tracking the skin just below his lips. It _did_ burn a little bit.

Stevie laughed, the sound triumphant. She punched his shoulder and laughed again.

“Took you guys long enough.” Shooting him a sunny smile, she turned and walked away.

Patrick stared after her and groaned. David was going to _kill_ him.

***

By the time he _finally_ made it back to the apartment—there was a line, and he figured David wanted more pancakes—Patrick assumed David would be up and already back at his own apartment. He wasn’t expecting to find David still sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep.

Setting the food and drinks down on the counter, he quietly walked over and kneeled by the couch, lightly rubbing David’s bare arm. 

God, his skin was so soft. And warm. Patrick wanted to sink back onto David and curl up, breathing in all that wonderful scent. He rocked back on his heels, forcing himself to resist that particular urge and shook David’s arm—gently.

David’s eyes popped open, his expression startled. “Oh! Where’s the bear?”

Patrick tried to bite back a grin. David was so freaking cute. “No bear, but I did bring you pancakes.”

David’s face lit up and he slowly sat up. “Pancakes? When did you get pancakes?” He reached up and felt his face, then glanced down at the coffee table. Grabbing his glasses, he put them on and stared over at the kitchen counter. “Did I fall asleep?”

“You did. And I didn’t want to wake you until I knew I could feed you.”

David flashed him a quick grin and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the lips before jumping up and rushing over to the takeout containers. “You’re the best,” he called out over his shoulder.

Patrick sank back against the couch, his lips tingling. _God_. What was he supposed to do when only a little peck of a kiss set his blood on fire? He was absolutely not used to this kind of reaction to anything physical.

Blinking, he watched David head back their direction, bag and cups in hand. He set the food down on the coffee table and dropped back down on the couch, patting the cushion next to him. “Get up here and eat with me.”

Patrick nodded, slowly climbing up and sinking down next to David. He cleared his throat. “Um, I think I got these from the same place you got them from yesterday? Just around the corner?”

David nodded, his expression delighted. “You did great! Same place.” He raised an eyebrow. “I see you didn’t want to share again?”

“There wasn’t much sharing,” Patrick teased, starting to feel a little less dazed. “I think I got one bite in.”

David snorted. “Shame eating.”

“Excuse me?”

“You made me flustered. It was all shame eating. I’d have shared today.” He handed Patrick a fork. “But, you have your own now, sooo….”

Patrick grinned. “So, that means I don’t make you flustered anymore? Wow, it’s only been a day. I’ve lost my touch so quickly.”

David set down his fork and turned, grabbing Patrick’s shoulders and kissing him—hard. Patrick melted into him, not prepared for the sudden onslaught of feeling rushing through his body. David let go as quickly as he’d latched on, sitting back, his gaze burning hot as he stared into Patrick’s eyes.

“I’m still flustered, Patrick, but I would have shared.”


	15. Panic and Groceries

David stuffed a bite of cold pancakes into his mouth and studied Patrick as he moved around the kitchen, wiping down counters, the cupboards, and the fridge. He looked so _domestic_ , and David was trying hard to not dwell on how appealing that was to him.

Honestly, it probably was because he’d missed this—this weird sense of comfort. He missed hanging out with his family in a set of tiny motel rooms. He missed cleaning rooms with his dad. He missed dealing with his mother’s daily dramatics. He missed talking to his sister in the dead of night, the darkness wrapped around them like one of his sweaters—all fears of being murdered absent.

Blinking back sudden wetness behind his eyes, David cleared his throat and sniffed. Patrick stopped moving and turned around, watching him with large, worried eyes.

 _God_ , the honest emotion that kept showing up in those warm eyes was a dangerous, heady thing. 

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked, his voice soft. He set down the cleaner and paper towels and made his way back over to David. “Are you okay?”

David thought about lying, pushing down his feelings and words like he normally did, but it was hard to do with freaking Patrick hovering over him with those beautiful, earnest eyes. Sighing, he set down his fork and shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just having a moment—missing my family, I guess.”

Patrick nodded and sat down next to him on the couch. “I get that. When is the last time you saw them?”

“It’s been a minute,” David admitted. “Life gets in the way of living, you know?”

Patrick’s lips turned down in a slight frown. “Yeah, it definitely does do that sometimes. Hey, once I get more up to speed on the day to day operations of the club, you should go see them. That’s one of the perks of having a business partner, right? You finally get to take days off?”

David sucked in a breath. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I could. Are you sure?”

Patrick nodded, that soft, fond look on his face. “Of course, David. You should go visit your family. I want to help you, so you can do things like that when you want.”

It was such a simple statement, but it was too much. The whole last couple days, the sweetness, the affection, the unexpected overwhelming emotions he felt around Patrick—everything was too much. Dark spots started up at the edge of David’s vision and he squinted his eyes shut tight. He did _not_ want to have a panic attack in front of Patrick. He absolutely could _not_ have one of those in front of him. Why the fuck was he having a goddamn panic attack in front of Patrick?!

A warm pressure started moving up and down his back, right below his shoulder blades. Patrick’s voice was soft and soothing in his ear. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Breathe. I got you.”

David nodded, trying to make himself moderate his breathing like Ted told him to do, way back when. The warm, steady pressure of Patrick’s palm—rubbing, rubbing—was helping a lot, too.

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasped.

“Don’t apologize, David.” _Rub, rub._ “How often does this happen?”

David shook his head. “Not very often. Usually only when I’m starting new things. I don’t like uncertainty. Hate surprises.”

“Even good surprises?” Patrick’s voice was so soft, so calm.

“I’ve yet to come across one of those.”

 _Rub. Rub._ “Well, that doesn’t seem right. What can we do to change that?”

David started to relax. Everything Patrick was doing was so damn comforting. “Not sure it’s possible. Years of bad surprises have set quite the precedence.”

“Mmhmm, well that’s definitely not okay.” _Rub. Rub._ “Do you need to go back home? I don’t want to make this worse for you. If you need to be alone, I can get you back over to your place and leave. I need to go grocery shopping, anyway.”

“No!” David’s voice burst out before he could stop it. He scrunched his eyes tighter. _God, that’s embarrassing._ “I mean, no. I don’t want to be alone. This is helping. Thank you.”

 _Rub. Rub._ “Good. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

_Soft. His voice is so soft. I could sink into it._

“Thank you,” David repeated. He started to lean towards Patrick’s voice and the gentle pressure against his back disappeared. He let out a whimper, but then the warmth was back, circling his shoulders, and then he was sinking onto the couch, warmth wrapped tight around him.

Patrick was letting him be the little spoon. 

_How does he know I love this?_

“Oh.” The breath left his body in an immediate, delighted puff. “This is nice.”

“Mmhmm. We’ll just stay here like this until you’re better, okay?”

David nodded, already starting to feel a bit better. “That sounds good.” His mind bounced back to Patrick’s earlier words. “You’re going shopping?”

“Mmhmm. Just for groceries and supplies. I need to make this place livable.”

“Can I come?”

There was a pause, then a light squeeze. “Of course you can come, David.”

David nodded and snuggled deeper into the arms wrapped around him. “Okay. Good.”

***

Shopping was pretty much David’s favorite way to release stress. Well, aside from having sex, but usually that just wound up creating _more_ stress in the long run. He rarely regretting buying things—he _often_ regretted sex.

He followed Patrick around the store, inspecting what he put in the basket—making constant comments, expressing his displeasure at some of the healthier items of food.

“Lentils? Patrick. I’m so ashamed of you.”

“We can’t all live on pizza, David,” Patrick scolded.

“Mmm, I beg to differ. Speaking of, can we stop by a deli and grab a few slices before we head back and start work? I’m starving.”

Patrick huffed out a laugh, but nodded. “So… you must really like shopping if being in a grocery store has perked you up like this.”

“Uh, shopping is _everything_. Besides, I oddly like this environment.” He paused. “I had an idea, back in Schitt’s Creek. It didn’t happen, but I still wonder if it could have been something.”

Patrick pushed the cart up to the conveyer belt and started to unload his items. “What was the idea?”

“The general store was a disaster. No sense of order at all. It went out of business and the space was up for lease. I put my name in the hat to take it over. I ended up losing out to some weird year-round Christmas themed place, but for a minute there I had a vision.”

Patrick watched him while the clerk rang up his groceries. “What was your vision?”

“I wanted to do my own take on a general store. Not selling cat food and toilet paper, or stuff like that. I wanted something more original—to _curate_ something. Sell local vendor items under my label. Make it something that benefited everyone.”

Patrick stopped in the middle of grabbing his bags. “That’s… that’s actually a really intriguing idea, David.”

David laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked. I occasionally have a good one.”

“That I don’t doubt,” Patrick agreed. “I just didn’t take you for the small town, general store type.”

“I didn’t use to be. I’m not so sure now, though. Maybe I am.”

“Don’t you like New York?”

They started down the sidewalk, back towards home. “It’s okay. I used to love it—always being in the center of the action. Now it’s exhausting. The expectation of people. Always having to be _on_. I’m not always feeling that. Sometimes I just want all the quiet back.”

Patrick nodded. “Well, I’m a small-town guy, so I get it.” He gestured to the horde of people walking around them. “This is a _lot_.”

David nodded. “Yeah. Also… back there, I guess I got used to people being real. Even if they were obnoxious or disgusting or whatever. They were _real_. It’s hard to find that here. At least not with the people who like to hang around me.” He glanced over at Patrick, his face heating. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course. What about Stevie?”

David snorted. “Oh, she’s the most real of anyone I’ve ever met. She literally does not give a shit. About anything. It’s refreshing.”

“Why do you hang out with those other people, then? The fake ones?”

David shrugged. “It’s what I know. Especially back in this environment. I’m not rich like I used to be, but I’m successful now. I’m _trending_. People are starting to show back up—people who used to get away with all sorts of things. They’re used to using me, I guess.” He unlocked the door to the lobby of his building and stepped aside to let Patrick in.

Patrick stepped in and stopped, setting his bags down before turning around to face David. “Hold on a minute. You _know_ people are using you, but you’re letting them?”

David shrugged again, starting to get embarrassed. It did sound really bad, when said out loud like that. “It’s a habit.”

Something heated in Patrick’s gaze. David’s pulse sped up. It was not a look he was used to seeing on Patrick—all predatory and dangerous. It was both hot and intimidating.

“Jesus, David. You know if I see that happening, I’m going to stop it, right? You deserve more than that. More than people like that.”

David was so taken aback by the anger in Patrick’s voice that he couldn’t respond. He just nodded and pushed the button to the elevator.

They rode up to the third floor in silence. When the doors opened, David stepped out first. “Um, I should get ready for tonight. This isn’t really club appropriate attire.”

Patrick watched him for a moment. His expression had lost some of the heat from before, but the sweet, earnest look from earlier was still absent. He cocked his head, his gaze assessing. David felt stripped bare. He didn't much like it.

“Okay, David. I’ll be down at 8:30.”

David nodded and turned to the direction of his apartment before shutting his eyes tight and turning. He couldn’t let him walk away like that.

“Hey, Patrick?”

Patrick turned. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For today. It—it meant a lot.”

Patrick’s expression softened. The sweet look was back and David felt like he’d won some kind of prize. “Any time, David.”

Even with that concession, he walked into his apartment, shutting the door and leaving David alone in the hallway.

_Fuck. We forgot to get pizza._

David stared at the empty space for a minute and then sighed, turning to head inside and get ready for the night. He was too upset to eat, anyway.


	16. Leather Clad Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters tonight! (15-16) I don't think I'll have time or brain power tomorrow, so it's a double feature.

Patrick shut the door to his apartment and leaned against it.

_Well, that went well._

He thumped his head against the door and prayed for a concussion to make him forget the colossal mistake he just made. He should have never reacted like that. It was just so infuriating that David let people use him like that—and it was apparently so ingrained in David's psyche that he described it as a _habit_. That was the worst thing Patrick had ever heard. It made him so angry—at the people who had treated David like that, at David for _letting_ himself be treated like that… at everything. It shouldn’t be happening.

How could David _not_ know he deserved better? He was simply the most fascinating, amazing, beautiful person Patrick had ever seen. In just a couple days knowing him, Patrick already figured out how good of a person David was—that he had a huge heart hidden under all that armor. It was in there, beating away, and assholes were allowed to stomp all over it.

Patrick hated every one of them.

But, maybe he shouldn’t have been quite so vocal about it. Especially not today. David was kind-of a mess. A panic attack would do that to someone, and Patrick should have known better than to go all ragey on him—justifiable rage, or not. Of course it didn’t land well. Today was not the day for chest-pounding.

Patrick had only had a panic attack once in his life—right after he asked Rachel to marry him—and he never wanted to experience that feeling ever again. It was _awful_. Awful enough that it seared itself into his memory so much that he immediately recognized what was happening to David the second it started to happen.

Patrick rushed over without thinking, doing whatever he could to soothe David, and it had actually worked… until he went and fucked it all up by jumping all over him about his choice of friends.

David completely shut down in the elevator—just disassociated from the moment—making some lame excuse about changing his perfectly fine outfit. He clearly just wanted to get away from Patrick and avoid any conversation about what had just happened. Patrick saw it written all over his face, so he let David go without a fight. There was nothing else to do. He’d just make it worse, otherwise.

God, less than an hour ago he’d been laying on a couch, wrapped up with David, refusing to let him go, and now they were barely speaking.

_Great job, Brewer. Fastest break up you’ve ever had._

Honestly, though, could it really be considered a break up if you’d only made out with a person a few times? If you’d only cuddled them and nearly fallen asleep with them? Was that even _considered_ dating?

In Patrick’s limited experience with women, that’s how it always seemed to work, anyway. Maybe it was different with guys. Maybe the intense connection was all in Patrick’s head. Maybe David acted that way with everyone.

Aaaannnd, the rage was back. He did _not_ want to think about David acting that way with everyone.

_Fuck._

He needed a shower.

Then he needed to make this better.

***

At 8:30 sharp, Patrick slid onto a stool at the bar and stared at Stevie.

“Can we drink on the job?”

“In moderation. What do you have there?” she asked, pointing.

Patrick glanced down at the box on the counter. “I owe David some pizza.”

Stevie laughed. “Oh, you’re _smooth_. You’ve already gotten his love language figured out. You could have saved yourself the trouble though. I think he’d have blown you without a pizza being involved.”

Patrick flinched, his face burning. “Jesus, Stevie. Subtle much? And yeah, not so sure about that right now. Where is David, anyway?”

Stevie shrugged. “Haven’t seen him yet—oh! There he is, and woooow. You’ve made quite an impression, Brewer. He hasn’t worn those in ages. Looks like maybe he’s trying to impress _someone_ ,” she said in a sunny sing-song.

Patrick turned around. David stalked toward them, a weird expression on his face. All the blood in Patrick’s body left his brain and went south.

_OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmyGOD._

David was wearing leather. So much leather. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, white tee-shirt with some kind of black vampire fangs on it. Black hair, black eyes, and black leather—all wrapped up in a David package.

Patrick was done for.

David must have seen something in Patrick’s expression because his eyes went darker. His lips curved up as he slid onto the barstool next to Patrick.

“Hi. What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the box.

Patrick blinked. “Wha?”

David’s lips quirked. “What’s in the box, Patrick?”

“Gwenyth Paltrow’s head,” deadpanned Stevie, placing a glass of wine in front of David and a pint of stout in front of Patrick.

The comment brought Patrick back to some semblance of coherence. “Oh, uh. Pizza. No head.”

“If you brought me pizza, the head will come later,” David teased.

Patrick’s heart rate and hormones shot through the roof. Holy shit, David was going to kill him.

“Wha?” he repeated again.

Stevie barked out a laugh. “He brought you pizza, David. Take pity on the poor guy. I think you short circuited his brain with that outfit.” She winked at Patrick and sauntered to the other end of the bar.

“Did you _really_ bring me pizza?” David asked, his expression softening and going gleeful. “Lemme see!” Grabbing the box, he opened it and gasped. Glancing up, he shot Patrick a huge grin that melted the remaining synapses in his bloodless brain. “ _Thank_ you!”

Patrick nodded. “We forgot. Earlier. We were supposed to get you pizza on the way home. I guess we got sidetracked.” Patrick glanced down at his hands, then back up to David. “I’m really sorry, David. For earlier. I acted like a jerk.”

David shook his head. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like you were wrong. It’s just been awhile since anyone but Stevie called me out on my shit. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I don’t think I’ve known you long enough to have the right to give you shit, though,” Patrick protested.

David held up his hand. “You’ve earned the right, Patrick. Besides, I kind-of like when you tease me.”

“You do?” Patrick’s head spun. This wasn’t the way he expected this conversation to go. He really expected David to take back the business partnership agreement and kick Patrick out of the bar. “ _Why?_ ”

“You’re _real_ ,” David answered, shrugging. “And you know how I feel about people who are real.”

Warmth flowed through Patrick’s body. “Yeah, I do.”

David grinned at him again and took a bite of pizza. “Seriously, _thank_ you for this. I haven’t eaten since the pancakes.” He took another bite. “I’m going to finish this slice, and we’re going to take the box up to the office, and you’re going to bury yourself in our finances tonight, okay? I want to see if I’ve been doing them right.”

Patrick nodded. He’d lost most of his ability to speak.

David glanced around the bar and his expression shuttered. Grabbing the box, he stood. “Actually, let’s go up there now. No time like the present. Follow me.”

He headed away from the crowd, toward the back wall.

Patrick stood on shaky legs, downed his beer in one, long swig, and followed.

He’d fucking follow a leather-clad David Rose _anywhere_.


	17. Uninvited Guests

David stared out the little window down at the bar, grimacing.

“You look pretty deep in thought there, David.”

Patrick’s voice cut through the chaotic feelings flying through his head.

“What? Oh. I’m just keeping an eye on the place,” he lied.

“You don’t have to stay up here, David. I promise I've got a pretty good handle on spreadsheets and accounting software.” Patrick’s voice was low, amused.

David spun away from the window and stared at him. Patrick had turned his chair and was currently regarding David, his brown eyes twinkling. He was so cute, sitting there all serious and business-like, going through David’s haphazard accounting like a real professional. It was almost enough to take David’s mind off of what was happening downstairs. From the reason he was currently hiding up in his darkened office with his very cute _almost_ -business partner.

“No, I like being up here with you,” David said.

 _That_ wasn’t a lie.

Patrick cocked his head. “Do you? That seems unlikely. Especially when it seems like there’s quite a party happening downstairs.”

“There’s _always_ party happening downstairs,” David said, shrugging.

“Well, you’re certainly dressed for it tonight. Seems a shame to let all that leather go to waste.”

Patrick’s tone was teasing, but his eyes were very, very hot.

_Oh. Well, then._

“Is it? Going to waste?” David asked, rolling away from the window until they were sitting knee to knee.

Patrick’s eyes widened. So did his pupils. “Definitely not,” he whispered.

David smiled, leaning forward until his lips were hovering over Patrick’s. “Well, that’s good, since all this was for your benefit, anyway.”

“Wha—”

David cut off the rest of Patrick’s words with a kiss, grabbing the back of his head and yanking him forward as he angled in deeper.

Patrick moaned against his mouth. David’s blood caught on fire, making him reckless. He launched himself out of his chair and tried to climb onto Patrick’s lap. It didn’t quite go as planned, and they both ended up tumbling to the floor, laughing and kissing. David didn’t ever want to stop kissing Patrick like this, even though he was probably getting his leather filthy from the disgusting floor. The feeling of Patrick underneath him was worth paying for specialized dry cleaning.

“Fuck,” Patrick muttered against David’s lips. “You’ve been driving me crazy with this outfit.”

“That was the intention,” David said, kissing down Patrick’s jaw, burying his nose in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “I wanted to make up for earlier.”

“Shh,” Patrick whispered into his ear, making him shiver. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

David nodded against Patrick’s skin. “I can do that.”

Pulling back, he stared into Patrick’s very lust-filled eyes and felt—calm? Could you be calm and ridiculously turned on at the same time? It had never happened to him before, but now here he was, hard as a rock in his tiny office, laying on top of his very hot business partner, and all his normal insecurities and anxieties about situations like this had seemingly disappeared.

_Huh._

“Not actually kissing me, David,” Patrick teased.

“Oh. Well, let’s fix that,” David whispered, smiling down and leaning into another kiss.

Patrick arched up to meet him halfway and then they were kissing again, grinding against each other in the darkened room.

David was going to die. This was the best feeling he’d ever experienced and he was going to die.

From the sounds Patrick was making, it appeared he was in the same boat.

“Upstairs,” David muttered. “Let’s go upstairs. Please. I want you in my bed.”

Patrick froze.

David cursed under his breath.

_Going a little too fast there, David. You fucking idiot._

“Sorry,” he breathed against Patrick’s lips. “That wasn’t slow. I just want you so bad. I wasn't thinking.” Anxiety started up, thumping in his blood.

Patrick let out a little gasp of a laugh. “Don’t you dare apologize. That was the sexiest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me.”

The calm came back. David propped himself up on his palms and stared down at Patrick’s flushed face, his swollen lips. His pupils had completely taken over, all the light brown now black, and it was the best thing David had ever seen.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then they were kissing again. Patrick’s hands made their way up the back of David’s shirt, hot against his bare skin, and David gasped, pressing into the hard body underneath him.

Patrick moaned, his fingernails digging into David’s back. He’d probably have marks there tomorrow.

They needed to go upstairs. _Now_.

A harsh beeping startled them both. David reared back, breaking the contact. He sat there, blinking, trying to place the sound that disturbed them.

Oh. Fuck. The phone.

Groaning, he forced himself to stand, gazing down at Patrick lying on the floor. “Don’t you dare go anywhere,” he ordered. “I have to take this. Stevie never calls unless there’s a problem.”

Patrick nodded, his eyes still glazed over. God, David wanted to put that look there all the time.

“What?” he barked, picking up the receiver.

“We have a situation.”

“I assumed. What’s going on?”

“Sebastien.”

One stupid name doused David in ice water. All the languid, beautiful heat from a second ago vanished like it had never existed.

“What’s he doing?”

“You should just come down here. Patrick should probably stay in the office.”

“No kidding. I’ll be right down.”

Hanging up the phone, he closed his eyes and turned, opening them to find Patrick sitting up, watching him with a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Problem clientele. I need to go take care of this. You stay here. I’m coming back. We’re not done here, not by a long shot.”

Patrick nodded and sucked in a shaky breath. “Okay.” He stood and slowly wiped his hands on his thighs.

David surged over to him in two steps, kissing him hard and backing away. “I’ll be back in a second.” Then he slammed open the office door and sprinted downstairs.

Sebastien sat at the bar, camera in hand, a smug look on his face. “Hello, David darling. You’re looking good tonight. Very… healthy.”

David bit the inside of his cheek to the point it almost drew blood. He would _not_ start a fight right now. Looking over Sebastien’s shoulder, he growled, “What’s the problem?”

Stevie winced. “He’s being obnoxious. And he’s taking pictures of people who don’t want their picture taken.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sebastien! You can’t _do_ that here. You could end up outing people," David cried, meeting Sebastien's amused gaze.

Sebastien shrugged. “Then they shouldn’t be here. If they’re willing to come to a gay club, they should be willing to have that fact posted online.”

“That’s not how any of this works,” David yelled, beyond pissed off. “You need to leave.” He started forward to grab Sebastien’s arm, but then stopped. “Actually, give me the memory card.”

Sebastien snorted. “As if.”

David moved forward until he was nose-to-nose with Sebastien. “Give. Me. The. Fucking. Memory. Card. Or else I’m banning you from this club and sending one of the bouncers after you.”

Sebastien sighed. “How about this? I’ll give you the card if you meet me in the bathroom for some fun.”

David’s mind flashed to Patrick—how he looked laid out on the floor upstairs—and he shuddered. “Nope. Not happening. Just give me the card.”

“Oh, come on, David. Since when do you turn down a blow job?”

“Since I grew some standards.”

Sebastien snorted. “Standards? Like the nerdy little straight guy from the other night? I saw you flirting with him. That’s you, though—always the optimist. You should know by now that straight guys don’t want relationships with you, David. They just want an experiment fuck.”

David’s heart squeezed in on itself. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. No more panic attacks today. Not when Patrick was waiting upstairs.

Sebastien’s voice was closer now, quieter. “You’re a great fuck, David, but no one wants a relationship with you. You’re just not lovable. I should know.” Then the voice was louder, brighter. “Here. Consider this a gift.”

David felt something cold pressed in his palm and opened his eyes to look down. He held a memory card and he was alone—Sebastien swallowed up by the crowd.


	18. Of Monsters and Men

Patrick couldn’t do anything involving numbers after David kissed the ability to focus right out of him, so he sat down and scooted up to the small window to look down at the bar. He spotted David immediately—not like that would ever be hard to do anymore. Not since he first saw him, and definitely not now.

David was a vision in black, gliding his way across the dance floor. The crowd parted for him like he was some kind of polarizing force, shoving people of the way without having to lift a finger. Patrick understood how they felt. Being in David’s orbit was a bit like being on one of those disorienting spinny rides at the fair. 

David stalked up to the bar, reaching a tall, handsome man who leaned back on a barstool. David’s back was to Patrick, but he recognized the immediate tension in David’s shoulders. Stevie also looked really uncomfortable, which was definitely not normal. Something was very wrong.

The man said something and David motioned to Stevie. She motioned at the crowd, and then David was gesturing wildly, his hands waving in the air. He stalked even closer to the man, almost nose to nose, and pointed to something in his hand. Patrick couldn’t make out what it was.

The man laughed, tossed his head to the side, and nodded in the direction of the bathrooms. Patrick felt a tingling start up in his feet as his heart stopped beating. That guy was _totally_ propositioning David. How could some asshole be propositioning David when David was just up here kissing him senseless? Patrick was absolutely _not_ okay with that, but then David shook his head, stepped back, and gestured wildly again.

Patrick’s heart restarted.

The man stood and stepped closer, pressing something into David’s hand before walking away. David’s shoulders slumped. He looked… broken. Patrick could tell, even from way up in the office. He raised his hands to his mouth, his heart slamming into this throat while tears pricked his eyes.

He needed to go down there. He wanted to pull David into a hug and make it better. For both of them. Whatever that man had said, David had lost the will to exist. Patrick recognized it in the crumpling set of his shoulders, and hated the man who put it there. Hated that he wasn’t down there to protect David from whatever just happened.

Then, David spun and stalked back through the crowd, back toward the doors that led up to the office. Patrick jumped away from the window, suddenly feeling very guilty about spying. He sprinted to the computer and sat down, pretending to be engrossed in tax documents.

The office door slammed open and then David’s hands were on his shoulders, hauling him out of the chair and pulling him flush against his body. David’s lips and hands were _everywhere_ —hot and urgent.

Patrick’s brain went into meltdown.

In the back of his head, he knew it was wrong. Whatever happened down there was _big_ , and now David was in reaction mode. Somehow Patrick’s lips became the lucky recipient of all David’s messed-up emotions, which was amazing, but also not.

It was wrong.

It felt so good.

It was _wrong_.

Patrick needed to stop this, but oh God, it felt fucking _amazing_.

_No. Not like this!_

Patrick wrenched himself away, jumping back and holding out his hands. “David, hold on.”

David’s chest heaved, his eyes jet black and his lips glistening and swollen. Patrick had never seen anything sexier or more beautiful in his entire life, but they couldn’t do this right now. Not when David was so upset.

“Why’d you stop?” David asked, his voice both growly and breathy. It was a sound Patrick wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“Because you’re upset. That kiss wasn’t about us. It was about whatever happened down there.”

David growled and turned to slam the door shut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Before I went down there, we were two seconds from fucking each other stupid on this floor. I want to get back to that.”

Patrick shuddered. David wasn’t wrong, and oh God, he _wanted_ that. But, still….

“Who was the guy, David? What was that about? He said something awful to you down there.”

David’s eyes went wide—shocked. “How do you know that?”

Patrick’s heart broke a little. He was right, after all. “I _see_ you, David. The real you. I know that’s what happened. What did he say to you?”

David sagged into the chair, his eyes filling with tears. “Fuck. Patrick. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come back up here tonight. I shouldn’t have just—attacked you like that. Wasn’t slow. You deserve better. ”

Patrick was on his knees in an instant, his hands cradling David’s cheeks. “No, you’re wrong about all that. I’m glad you came back up here.” He paused a second, rubbing David’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m not exactly complaining about being attacked, David. I _want_ that. I want _you_. Just… not like this. Not when you’re so upset. Let’s get you upstairs, okay? We should talk.”

David nodded, then immediately shook his head. “No. The club—”

“Stevie can close up. I’ll go help her later. Let me just get you upstairs, okay?”

David sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek, and Patrick brushed it away with his thumb. “Come on, sweetheart. Up you go.” He stood and pulled David up with him.

David’s shoulders were still slumped, his body almost boneless. Patrick wanted to cry. He needed to know what happened down there. He needed to try and make it better.

They rode up the elevator in silence, David’s head on his shoulder, his body slumped into Patrick’s side. When they got to David’s front door, David stood straight and felt around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a key ring. His hands shook as he handed them to Patrick. “Here. Can you open the door?”

Patrick nodded, taking the keys but grabbing David’s shaking hand at the same time. He brought it up to his lips, kissing David’s knuckles. “It’s okay. We’re going to talk this through, alright?”

David’s eyes went round, slightly hazy, as his mouth dropped open and he puffed out a small breath. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

Still holding David’s hand, Patrick unlocked the door and pulled David inside. He bypassed the living room and took David straight to his bedroom, pulling David inside before stepping back out into the hall.

“Get ready for bed, David. I’ll be waiting out here once you’re done.”

David looked confused—restless. “Don’t you want to help me get out of these clothes?”

Patrick’s blood surged. “Um. I want that very much, David, but we’d definitely get sidetracked, and we need to talk. Also, that leather is so fucking tight that I think it might be dangerous, trying to undress you. Someone could get hurt.”

David smiled a little, his expression still sort-of broken. “Well, it was worth a try.”

Patrick chuckled and stepped forward, lightly kissing him. “Hurry and get ready. I’ll make us some tea.”

David nodded. “Okay.” His voice was a whisper, sad and desolate.  
  
Patrick hated it.

***

Patrick stood at the kitchen window, staring out at the lights of Midtown. David had been in his room for a while, and Patrick was debating whether or not to storm in there and pull him out. He suspected he was stalling.

As he stood there, warm arms wrapped around him from behind and David dropped a light kiss to Patrick’s neck. Patrick went boneless, melting into the hard body at his back. God, it was such a good feeling—being wrapped up in David like this.

“Hi.” David’s voice was soft—stronger.

“Hi, yourself. Are you okay?” Patrick turned in David’s embrace and faced him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

David moved his arms up around Patrick’s neck. It was a new position, but it felt like they’d been doing it forever—like there was a David sized space etched into his shoulders all this time, and he’d finally found the missing puzzle piece.

David smiled down into Patrick’s gaze. “I’m okay. But, you’re right. We need to talk about what happened down there.”

Patrick nodded and squeezed David’s waist, which apparently prompted David to squeeze back and drop another light kiss to Patrick’s neck. “C’mon. Let’s go sit,” he mumbled, his breath hot on Patrick’s skin.

Patrick stepped back and stared up at David. Gone was the leather-clad overwhelming beauty from before. Back was the bespectacled, pajama-clad version Patrick was getting very comfortable with seeing. He adored both versions of this very complex, fascinating man.

“Okay, David. Let’s go talk.”

They made their way to the couch and sank down onto it, facing each other, their knees touching.

“So. What happened?” Patrick asked. “Who was that?”

David sighed and looked up at the ceiling, his eyes blinking rapidly. “So, _that_ was the monster.”

Things clicked into place in Patrick’s brain. “Ohhh. Okay. Who is he?”

“My ex, unfortunately. Sebastien Raine. He’s uh—he’s not a good person.”

“I gathered. What did he say to you? Why did Stevie call you down there?”

“Um, so a bit of history. I met him back—before. Before we lost everything. He showed up at a party one night and I thought we hit it off. I thought he genuinely liked me.” David shrugged. “My radar for good people was a bit broken at the time.” He reached over and squeezed Patrick’s hands. “The last couple years have fixed it.”

Patrick squeezed back. “Go on.”

“Yeah, so… we dated for a couple months. I thought it was exclusive, but then I found out he was also dating other people. At the same time. We’d never discussed being open, so Alexis did some digging for me. Turns out not only is Sebastien a great con-artist, he’s also a pretty prominent paparazzi. He’d been using me and my parties to get celebrity photos to sell online. He made quite a good profit off me.” David laughed, the sound bitter. “I really had no idea, so you can imagine how I felt.”

Patrick saw red. “He made you think you were dating so he could make some money?”

“Yep. Pretty much. When I confronted him about it, he said some pretty awful things. About us. About _me_. I had a hard time bouncing back, but then we lost everything and moved anyway, so….”

“What did he say to you tonight?” Patrick could barely force his words out, he was so angry.

“That I was unlovable.” He squeezed Patrick’s hands again. “Patrick, I’m sorry, but you’re on his radar. He mentioned you tonight. Said he saw me flirting with some straight guy, and how pathetic I was—that I was just a gay experiment to you.” 

David sounded so uncertain, his words so hesitant. Patrick’s mouth dropped open in outrage.

“What?! David, that’s absolutely _not_ true. None of it. And I’m not straight, you know that.”

“You were until recently.”

“No. That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve _never_ been straight, c’mon. I just was too scared to be who I actually am. Who I’ve _always_ been. Being a coward most of my life doesn’t mean I’m _experimenting_ now. And, for the record, just so you’re perfectly aware—you’re extremely lovable, David Rose.”

David blinked, his eyes watering again. “I’m sorry. I know you probably think that. It’s just—it’s just I’ve been an experiment before. Quite a few times. I’ve been someone who is easy to use and blow off steam with. Someone available to sample before guys settled into their nice, normal, socially acceptable lives.”

Patrick felt like his head was going to explode. He’d never been so furious. He leaned forward, shoving David onto his back to climb on top of him, their bodies pressed against each other.

David let out a soft noise, his arms wrapping around Patrick’s hips, which soothed some of the fury flowing through Patrick’s veins. He propped himself up on his palms and stared down at David’s beautiful, sad face.

“I don’t _think_ anything, David. I _know_. I know what I feel like when I’m with you. I know it’s different from every other moment in my past. When we kiss—David, it feels like my first time. All those feelings that everyone talks about—I’d never felt them before. Not until _you_. Now they’re _all_ I feel. Every time we do this.” He leaned down and kissed David, hard, then pulled back. “This isn’t a fucking experiment. This is right. You make me feel right, David.”

David’s eyes went round, tears seeping out from the corners to run down his cheeks. “That’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard someone say, outside of the Downton Christmas Special.”

“It’s the truth,” Patrick whispered, wiping away David’s tears with his thumb.

“I know. I’m sorry I said that. It’s just _my_ truth is that I’m damaged goods, Patrick. I feel like I’m going to ruin you.”

Patrick shook his head. “Too late for that. I’m already ruined.” He leaned down and kissed David softly. He couldn’t help it. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”


	19. Calm Before the Fire

David hadn’t been so emotionally wrung out and exhausted in forever, but at the same time, he was still hopeful for the future. Honestly, the idea of hope usually scared him to death, but he couldn’t help it this time. How could he possibly _not_ feel hope? There was a beautiful, sweet man lying on top of him, and David finally felt like maybe his life could be calm.

Patrick was so _real_. There was no pretense about him. Every emotion, every thought, was completely laid bare in those beautiful eyes when he looked at David. The magnitude of emotion David saw directed at him both hollowed him out and filled him up again. It was the most powerful, intoxicating feeling.

It was starting to become more than a little addictive.

How could everything in his life change and become so intense in such a short period of time?

It’s not like David hadn’t been in intense relationships before—but those relationships burned bright and faded out just as quickly. This felt different. It wasn’t chaotic. As intense as it was, it was also weirdly calm. Patrick made David feel like he was going to be okay. That everything would finally be okay, as long as he stuck around.

Like right now. _This_ was calm. 

They were spread out on the couch, Patrick’s weight still draped over him while David's hand was tucked up under the back of Patrick's shirt. He drew lazy circles on Patrick's skin with his index finger—feeling the hard muscle of quiver under his touch.

David was pretty sure that if he died right then, every single hell he’d gone through in his life (and there had been many) would have been worth it since they brought him to this exact moment. Here, on his couch, laying in silence with Patrick.

Patrick hummed, the sound content and happy as he kissed David’s cheek.

David pressed his face into Patrick’s shoulder and tried to focus on not suddenly breaking into tears again.

Honestly, he’d cried more in the last couple hours than he had in _years_. Patrick must be worried that he was some kind of panicky basket case, ready to lose it at a moment’s notice. David needed to make him understand why this whole thing was different. _Why_ he was so emotional about it. The last thing he wanted to was to scare him away.

“Hey,” he whispered against Patrick’s skin. “You’re kind of amazing.”

Patrick hummed again and kissed David’s ear. “Right back at you.”

David shook his head. “No. I mean—you’re so different from—well, from anyone I’ve ever—I mean, I’ve never been with anyone who—anyone I’ve respected, or cared about, or thought was nice?”

Patrick shifted, propping himself up to stare down at him. “David, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” He leaned down and kissed him lightly. “And for the record, I also respect you and think that you’re a good person.”

Happiness and laughter bubbled up in David’s chest. “I just—I said you were a _nice_ person.”

“You did,” Patrick said, kissing him again. “Thank you.”

“I need you to say _I’m_ a nice person.”

“You’re a good person,” Patrick repeated, kissing him again.

“That’s not nice,” David said, giggling.

Patrick chuckled and kissed him again. He pulled back and stared into David’s eyes, his gaze penetrating. “You’re nice, David. You’re also smart and fascinating, and so _,_ so beautiful. You make me feel things and want things I never knew I wanted or thought were possible. For me, at least. The way you make me feel—it’s _not_ nice. It’s a hell of a lot more than nice.”

David blinked, his brain effectively reduced to gooey, blissed-out mush.

“Um, I think I need to take you to bed now, Patrick.”

Patrick’s eyes went dark. David felt him harden against his thigh and he lost the ability to breathe for a second.

He watched, riveted, as Patrick closed his eyes and swallowed before speaking.

“David—I want you to, believe me. God, I really, _really_ want you to. I just—I just don’t know if I’m ready for _everything_ yet. It’s a lot. This is a lot. I might only be able to follow through with some rated-PG things.”

“Hmm, that’s okay,” soothed David. “I am still absolutely going to take you to bed right now, Patrick.”

Patrick laughed nervously and ran his hand through his short hair. “Okay, yeah. Just—I want you to know that if I say no to something in there, it’s not because I don’t want it. It’s not because I don’t want _you_ or I think you’re not—lovable—it’s just because I’m fucking terrified about how much I actually _do_ want you. Okay?”

David’s heart expanded to the point it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “Okay,” he whispered. “But, for the record, _nothing_ you do will ever be rated-PG for me.”

Patrick nodded. “Me either.”

David shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. “So now we’re going to need to move off this couch. Get your sweet ass into my bedroom, Patrick. I need us to be naked.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Oh, _fuck_. I think you’re probably going to kill me. I’m not going to survive tonight, am I?”

“Mmm. There’s a good chance you won’t,” David answered, trying not to laugh.

How weird was it that he was able to joke around at the same time he wanted to rock someone’s world right off its axis? Had he _ever_ been this happy before sex with anyone else?

He frowned, thinking back.

No. He never actually had. He was usually too filled with anxiety and worry.

Both of those appeared to be noticeably absent—even though he was about to embark on what was normally a very stressful situation for him. If anything, it should be _more_ stressful than normal because it was _Patrick_. He actually meant something to David. Something real. Something _important_. If anything, this night should be more stressful because of the stakes.

Instead, David was just happy. _So_ fucking happy.

_Huh._

Rolling them both off the couch, he stood and pulled Patrick up, yanking him close. “I want you to be comfortable with whatever we do tonight, so don’t think you have to do something because I want to, or because you’re caught up in the moment. If anything feels like it’s too much, just tell me to stop. I’ll never push you past your boundaries, not on purpose—but that means you have to tell me what they are when we get to them, okay?”

Patrick nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“But, with that said,” David continued, suddenly both gleeful and really fucking impatient, “I need you to _also_ understand how much I fucking want you. I think you’re sweet, and real, and so goddamn pretty. I want to take your world apart, piece by piece, until you scream. I want to fuck you into the mattress and make you lose your goddamn mind until all you can say is my name. Understand?”

Patrick’s eyes went black, pupils blown out. His mouth dropped open and he puffed out a small exhalation of breath before he whispered. “Oh. Oh _God_.”

David crowded up against him, pushing him down the hallway toward his room, each movement punctuated by a word. “Do. You. Understand. What. I’m. Saying. Patrick?”

Patrick scrunched his eyes shut and swallowed. “Yeah, I—I understand, David.”

“And you’re good with that plan?”

“So good,” Patrick sighed.

“Excellent. Now get in there so I can peel those horrible clothes off you and get started.”


	20. Give the Man What he Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah... I know you've all been waiting for this. I hope it meets the expectations I've set!

Patrick didn’t know what to do with his hands.

It was a weird thought blended in with the profound _want_ he felt right now, but he was finally about to do something he’d only ever dreamed of, and he didn’t know what to do with his fucking _hands_.

David shoving him down the hallway to his bedroom was the hottest thing Patrick had somehow ever lived through. In the last few days, he’d learned so much about himself—what he liked, what he wanted, who he _was_ —but right now, he just learned that he _really_ loved to be manhandled. So much so that he was right on the edge of coming in his pants, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wanted to savor tonight.

David shoved him one final time and Patrick landed against the soft, familiar feel of David’s cedar and pine scented sheets.

_OhmyFUCK_

Patrick’s senses went into meltdown, his body right on the edge—and then David was on top of him, his heavy bulk pressing him down into the mattress. It was too much. Patrick was going to incinerate from the inside out—all over David and his very nice sheets.

"David,” he gasped. “I’m already so close. We need to slow down or this will be the fastest, most embarrassing sexual situation I’ve ever been in, and up until recently I’ve been sleeping with the wrong gender, so you can probably appreciate there have been a lot of embarrassing situations.”

Joking around helped cool his blood, at least. A little. He drew in a shaky breath and tried to think about baseball stats.

David snorted and propped himself up. “Why, Patrick. Was that your very unromantic way of telling me I’m about to get you off without really trying?”

Patrick nodded, his face hot under David’s amused gaze. Then the amusement disappeared and David kissed him again, slow and dirty, and _ohGOD_ he was actually going to come in his pants.

“Off, off,” he muttered against David’s lips, tugging at his shirt. “Please?” He sounded whiny, needy. He didn’t care. He wanted his hands on David’s skin when he—well, when he had his first orgasm with a man. That seemed like a pretty momentous thing for him. He needed to see _all_ of David when it happened.

David muttered something filthy against his lips, which only ratcheted up Patrick’s desire, and then his weight was gone. David stood up, ripping off his shirt... and pajama bottoms… and boxer briefs… and oh, oh _GOD_.

David, naked, was the most gorgeous, divine thing Patrick had ever seen. Time slowed down, funneled in on itself, somehow. He propped himself up on his elbows and just _stared_.

David must have seen something in his eyes because he stopped moving and just stood there, a light flush moving up his shoulders to his face. “Um, that’s quite the expression, Patrick. You, um, you like what you see?”

“You have no fucking idea how much, David.”

David smirked, but also looked really pleased. “Well, um, drink it in?”

“Yeah, I’m going to need a minute to do that. To drink you in. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“I’m okay with literally speaking, as well,” David teased.

An image flashed through Patrick’s mind—of his lips wrapped around David’s perfect cock, _drinking him in_ —and he shut his eyes tight and groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

David’s weight was back on him in an instant, this time all hot skin and coarse hair. Patrick nearly lost his mind.

“Fuck. Fuck, David. I really need my clothes off. _Jesus_.” He could barely speak. The words felt like they were being ripped out of him.

“Okay, okay,” David chanted, his fingers shaking at the buttons of Patrick’s shirt. “This stupid dress shirt of yours is not making this easy, Patrick.”

“Here, let me,” Patrick gasped, rolling out from under David and launching himself off the bed. He ripped off his clothes, losing a couple buttons in the process, and then dove back down next to David.

 _Finally,_ finally, their skin made contact, heat against heat, and Patrick wanted to die from how amazing it was. “Ohmygod,” he breathed against David’s neck. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Hardly,” David said, snorting, but his voice sounded fond, happy.

“Learn to take a complement, David.” Patrick kissed his neck, then pulled back, staring. “Can I touch you?”

“Um, you can do whatever you want, Patrick.”

Patrick grinned. It probably came across as maniacal, considering how much of an out of body experience this was turning out to be. “Are you sure about that?”

David nodded, blushing a bit deeper. “Patrick, anything you do will be the best I’ve ever had. It’s been that way since the first time I saw you.”

Patrick blinked, the words settling across him like a warm blanket. Then he nodded, reaching out to trace a finger down David’s chest—the thick hair tickling his wrist—making his nerve endings spark. “It’s been the same for me too,” he admitted.

David’s eyes went fuzzy at the contact on his chest but sharpened at Patrick’s words. “Um. This feels like one of those perfect moments you only dream about.”

Patrick nodded again. “The only thing that would make it more perfect is if you were kissing me right now.”

He barely got the words out before David’s lips were back on his, hot and soft and so fucking filthy. His tongue felt like a promise and Patrick scrambled, grabbing the back of David’s head and fisting in a handful of thick hair to pull him closer.

David moaned, the sound echoing through the room.

_Oh, he likes that._

Patrick tried it again, lightly pulling David’s hair as they kissed, their tongues and lips clashing.

David moaned again, his hips bucking forward, and Patrick felt like a god. _He_ was doing that to David. _Him_. He’d never felt so sexy in his whole fucking life.

“Jesus, Patrick,” David whispered between kisses. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” he whispered back. “Show me what to do here, David. I want everything. With you, I want _everything_.”

David pulled back, his eyes intent and hot. “And I want to show you everything, but we have all the time in the world, Patrick. Let me—” He stopped talking, biting his lips as he stared down at Patrick.

“Let you what?” Patrick prodded.

“Can I—can I just make you feel good, tonight? I want to make this good for you.”

“You already _are_ ,” Patrick whimpered, pressing his hips forward. Their cocks brushed against each other, and they both froze, groaning. White hot fire shot up Patrick’s spine at the contact. 

“Oh God, David. This—it’s never felt like this before, for me. This—so fucking intense.” He was starting to lose the ability to form coherent sentences, pressing harder against David, needing the contact.

David didn’t seem to mind, his eyes hot and burning as he pulled back and stared down at Patrick’s body, licking his lips.

Patrick whimpered. That image was going to be burned into his retinas forever. “I’m dying. This is what dying feels like.”

David smiled, brushing his hand across Patrick’s cheek. Soft, so soft. “Lay back,” he whispered.

Patrick immediately complied, flopping onto his back, already reaching for David to drag him down with him.

David shook his head. “No. You just lay there and let me take care of you.”

“D-David,” Patrick gasped. “I—I want you to feel good. I want to make you feel good, too.”

“You are.” David’s expression went a little mystified, then he smiled, wide and open. It nearly made Patrick come on the spot. “You are.”

He leaned over and started kissing his way down Patrick’s body—his neck, his chest, his stomach, his thighs—all the way down to his feet and back up again, repeating the process but adding tongue and teeth until Patrick arched off the bed, clutching the sheets in a death grip.

“David,” he gasped. “Oh God. Please.”

“Please what?” David’s voice was low, growly. “Say what you want, Patrick.”

Patrick arched up again. “P-please touch my cock.”

“Mmm, okay,” David whispered. "Since you asked nicely."

Then, his mouth was on him, hot and wet, with just the right amount of pressure, and Patrick actually yelled—out loud—he _yelled_. That was a first. He was embarrassed about the sounds coming out of his mouth, but then David did something with his tongue that set his world on fire. Everything went white—his muscled seized up and he screamed, the sound almost distant in his brain—and then he was coming… coming… coming… so hard. He couldn’t breathe. It was so good. So fucking good. Had never been so good. David was the fucking best.

“Well, thank you?” David’s voice was low, somehow both hot and amused at the same time.

Patrick blinked, starting to come down from the high. His brain was absolutely fried. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Mmhmm, you did.” David kissed Patrick’s cock, setting off a chain reaction of sparks through Patrick’s body. He gasped. There was no way he could get hard again so soon, but God… that felt amazing.

David sat up and smiled down at Patrick. “Soooo, how was it? Everything you ever dreamed of?”

Patrick knew he was teasing, trying to deflect some of the weight of what just happened between them, but David was so fucking pretty, his lips swollen, his eyes alight. Patrick fell right over the edge into absolute, complete, head-over-heels love with this man.

He blinked, his world tilting. Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Lay down, David.”

David’s eyes went dark, but there was apprehension in there, too. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Patrick. I’m so close, just from watching you— _God_ —like, all you’d basically need to do is touch me and I’d probably—”

“Shut up and get on your back, David.”

David’s eyes flared hot, but he did as he was told.

Patrick stared down at him, completely in awe. David was breathing heavily, his chest and stomach heaving as he stared back at Patrick. He bit his lip and reached up to trace a finger down Patrick’s arm.

“You’re so pretty, Patrick,” he whispered, his voice barely a whisper. “When you look at me like that, it’s like nothing—like nothing I—”

“I know,” Patrick said, shushing him. “I know, David.” Then he leaned down and kissed him.

David moaned, opening his mouth, letting Patrick explore. He tasted different than before, slightly bitter, and Patrick realized that it was _him_ he was tasting, leftover from the fucking perfect blowjob David just gave him. It should have weirded him out, but all it did was turn him on more. “Ohmygod,” he murmured against David’s lips. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Rightbac’atcha,” David slurred. His hands were everywhere, grabbing, digging in.

Patrick wrenched himself away, scooting down David’s body until that perfect cock was right at eye level, right there for the taking.

So he took.

David gasped above him, but Patrick barely heard it—too focused on the smooth, hot feel of a dick in his mouth. _David’s_ dick. It was the best feeling ever. Why had he waited so long to do this? He hummed with pleasure, and David arched up, making a desperate noise.

“Fuck. Fuck. _Patrick_!”

Patrick hummed again, drunk on the power he felt, making David react like this. It was so fucking _euphoric_. How was any of this actually happening right now?

He swallowed David as deep as he was able— _I definitely need to practice this_ —and tentatively ran his tongue up David’s length.

David made a keening noise and pressed himself hard against Patrick’s face. “Jesus. Not gonna last—oh _fuck_!” He grabbed Patrick’s head, his fingernails digging into his scalp, sharp and burning.

Patrick gasped and moaned, losing his rhythm for a second. David whimpered, and that was all it took for Patrick to regain focus. He needed to do this forever. He needed to keep making David come apart like this. It was the best feeling in the whole fucking world.

“Shit, shit. Fuck. _Patrick_!” David’s voice rose in volume and force and then Patrick felt his cock pulse against his tongue as he exploded down his throat.

Patrick tried to swallow it all but wound up almost choking himself. He pulled back, coughing and laughing. He definitely needed to practice that more. Preferably at least once a day, if David was willing.

David groaned out a laugh above him. “You okay down there?” He sounded breathless—blissed out.

“Mmm, never been better.”

“Come up here,” David said, reaching down and grasping lightly at Patrick’s shoulders. “Wanna hold you.”

That sounded excellent. Patrick crawled up the sheets and snuggled against David, reaching over to find a blanket to pull over them both.

David hummed, the sound content and happy, and nuzzled against Patrick’s neck. “Wanna do that again, but can’t move.”

Patrick smiled and kissed the top of David’s head. “Rest, David. We have all the time in the world.”

Biting his lip, he stared up at the ceiling and grinned.


	21. The Morning After

David woke up to faint light filing the bedroom and laid there a moment, his brain catching up with his body. A soft, snuffling sound next to him brought everything into sharp focus.

_Patrick._

David turned his head and gazed over at the man lying next to him, his heart already pounding hard in his chest. Last night was—well, last night was something else entirely.

He swallowed back a sigh and stared, resisting the urge to trail his fingers down Patrick’s beautiful face, down to his neck and chest. Patrick’s eyelashes were long and light against the pale skin of his cheeks, and David had never seen anything so pretty in his whole life.

He looked so peaceful. David didn’t want to disturb him, so he just studied what he could see, trying to catalogue every curve of muscle into his memory forever. The sheets only partially covered Patrick, riding low on his hips, one thigh and leg free, exposed to the air. He was probably cold, if the goosebumps across his forearms were any indication.

David should cover him up, make him comfortable, but he _really_ wanted to look. He’d only had glimpses of Patrick’s body before, and last night he was way too preoccupied with his urgent need to really appreciate what was laid out before him.

This morning, all languid and relaxed, he had the time and brainpower to actually _observe_.

Patrick wasn’t tall, but he was so, so built. David’s mouth watered a little over the muscles of Patrick’s arms, his chest, his actual fucking six-pack of abs. His one exposed thigh was like a tree trunk, and David suddenly had a new obsession. He wanted to _do_ things to those thighs.

Honestly, all those muscles lying next to him made David a little self-conscious. His body was fine, he knew that, but it wasn’t _Patrick_ fine. Patrick was all hard, smooth muscles and a faint dusting a chest hair over his pale skin. David was all olive skin and coarse, black hair—with a stomach that was slightly soft because he was _not_ giving up carbs—but, now, next to Patrick, he started to think maybe he should at least go to the gym more often.

Patrick’s eyelashes fluttered as his eyes opened, so soft and brown in the early morning light. David’s heart expanded until he thought it would burst out of his body, breaking into song as it did.

“Hi. Good morning,” he whispered, swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat.

Patrick rolled over to face him, disrupting the sheet. David caught a glimpse of an already half-hard erection, and his pulse sped up.

“Good morning.” Patrick’s voice was raspy, tired, but he sounded happy.

That was good. He sounded happy. He was also starting to get hard. Maybe he didn’t regret what happened last night.

David reached out and traced a finger down Patrick’s cheek, like he’d wanted to earlier. “Hands down, best way to wake up,” he murmured. “Finding you next to me.”

Patrick smiled and leaned into the touch. “Mmm, I concur.”

“Sooo… no regrets then?” David winced as he asked, but he needed to know.

Patrick’s eyes went wide, surprise etched across his features. “What? No! Why would I have any regrets?”

“Well, that was kind-of a new experience for you, and—”

Patrick leaned over and kissed him, soft and quick. “David, shut up. Last night was perfect. I’ll never regret anything with you, okay?”

David bit his lip and tried to hold back the pure joy racing through him. “Oh. Okay. That’s good.”

“Mmhmm. Very good,” Patrick agreed, shifting closer. “Now, I _do_ have a very important question to ask you, though.”

David frowned, worried. Some of the joy dimmed. “Okay? What?”

Patrick grinned, pressing his now fully hard length into David’s hip. “What’s your stance on morning sex?”

David’s body went charged with an electric pulse. “Um, _pro_. I’m pro morning sex.”

“That’s good, because apparently so am I.” His hips pressed forward again. “Very, _very_ pro.” He sounded almost shocked by that statement, so David pulled back and studied his face.

“We’re going to need to discuss that, Patrick. Why do you sound so surprised?”

Patrick half-laughed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “So, I’ve never been a very sexual person. I spent most of my life wondering if maybe I was asexual, or something. Sex never was that important to me. Never that worth it… or necessary even. I’d learned to accept it.” He snorted. “And then I met _you_ —and I just realized that I am _definitely_ a very, very sexual person.”

David’s heart split open and filled with sunlight. “Well, I’m glad I could help clarify some things for you,” he teased.

“Oh, they’re clarified,” Patrick said, nodding. “Very much so.” He leaned forward and kissed David again, with a little more heat this time. “I really fucking want you, David. Like all the time. I look at you and I just want to fucking _devour_ you. It’s crazy, how much I feel inside when I’m near you.”

David sighed, going a little liquid. Patrick’s earnest declarations were quickly becoming a kink. “There’s something I want to do, if you’re willing.”

God, he felt a little desperate with how much he _really_ wanted to. He prayed Patrick was willing.

“What?” Patrick’s voice was breathless.

“You have really great thighs. Like _amazing_ thighs. I want to fuck them.”

Patrick’s eyes widened—went a little fuzzy. “Is that—is that a _thing_?”

“Oh, it’s absolutely a thing. Can I show you how much of a _thing_ it is?”

“Um, yeah. I want you to show me everything. I need to know what turns you on.”

“You,” David said, shrugging, surprised that it was the truth. “ _You_ turn me on. But, I absolutely want to show you everything, if you’ll let me.”

“I’ll let you do anything, David.”

David closed his eyes for a second and focused on breathing. “Right. Okay. Roll over, honey. Let me in behind you.”

Patrick blinked and nodded. As he rolled over, David reached out and opened the drawer to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“Okay,” David took another long breath. “Press your thighs together, tight.” He filled his hand liberally with lube and rubbed it on himself. He was already so hard it hurt. Scooting up next to Patrick, he aligned his cock where Patrick’s ass met those glorious thighs—then pushed forward.

Letting out a long moan, he stopped moving and tried to not pass out. It felt so fucking good. Gripping his fingers into Patrick’s hip for a second, he pulled back and pressed forward once again—testing.

Yep, just as good as before.

“Jesus,” he muttered against Patrick’s neck.

Patrick let out a long breath David didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You feel really good.” His voice was raspy, barely recognizable. “What do I do now?”

“Hang on for the ride,” David breathed, reaching around and grasping Patrick’s dick with his lubed up fist.

“Oh!” Patrick gasped and then moaned, pushing his ass back while simultaneously surging forward into David’s grip.

David’s vision blacked out around the edges. “So—fucking—good,” he muttered. Then he bit down on Patrick’s neck and slammed his hips forward.

Patrick let out a long, high-pitched whine that nearly made David come out of his skin. He groaned and sucked down on the same spot on Patrick’s neck, worrying it with his tongue. “I’m going to take care of you, honey,” he whispered, increasing the tempo of his hips and his hand around Patrick’s cock.

Patrick whimpered, breathing hard. “God. David. _Fuck_.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay.” He squeezed his fist and surged forward at the same time, his voice breaking on a long moan.

Something so tame had never felt so good or been so right. David had been giving hand jobs since high school, dry humping for just as long. Neither of those things had ever been as life-altering as this. He’d never be able to get enough of this feeling—of being wrapped around and between Patrick, making them both come apart on a lazy, weekday morning.

He wasn’t going to last long. His skin started to tingle, the beginning heat and pull starting low in his belly, making his legs tremble. He increased the speed and pressure of his movement around Patrick’s cock.

Patrick cried out, pressing back into David, making his world go white for a second.

“ _God_. That’s it. Come for me, baby,” David ground out. “Want to make you come so good.”

He squeezed harder and bit down on Patrick’s neck again, groaning.

Patrick screamed, his hips stuttering forward as his cock jerked once in David’s hand, covering it with warmth as he came all over his own stomach and David’s fist.

That was enough to shove David over the edge. He came hard, his vision blacking out as he bit down harder and rode out his release between Patrick’s fucking incredible thighs.

After a minute, he stopped moving, both of them breathing hard. He squeezed Patrick’s waist in a tight hug and then let go, rolling over onto his back.

“Don’t move. I need to get us cleaned up.”

“Mmppmph.”

David had no idea what Patrick was trying to say, but it was still cute. He grinned and dropped a light kiss to Patrick’s neck before rolling out of bed. His legs felt like jello, and he stumbled trying to make his way into the bathroom.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so blissed out. Even last night, as incredible as it was, hadn’t been as good as this. And they still had so much _more_ to explore with each other. David couldn’t wait to see what _that_ would be like.

Grabbing a wet washcloth and a towel, he stumbled back to bed, crawling in next to Patrick. “Roll over, honey. On your back. I need to get you cleaned up.”

Patrick whined, but rolled. His eyes were still closed, his face relaxed. When David placed the washcloth on his stomach, his eyes opened, wide and shocked. “God, that’s cold.”

“Sorry. Gotta wash you off. You’ll thank me later.”

He wiped away the mess they'd made on Patrick’s stomach and thighs, then dried him off with the towel before laying it over the sheets. “There. I don’t have the energy to remake the bed right now.”

“Neither do I,” muttered Patrick, grabbing David’s shoulders and pulling him down flush against his body, moving his his head so it rested on Patrick’s chest as strong arms wrapped around him.

The washcloth was still in David’s hand, so he sighed and tossed it in the general direction of the bathroom. He’d pick it up later. He wasn’t about to leave the warm cocoon of Patrick’s arms.

His eyes were just starting to drift closed when Patrick spoke up. “God, David. That was—that was really fucking incredible.”

“Mmhmm,” David agreed. “It was.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get enough of you.”

David opened his eyes again, watching the rise and fall of Patrick’s abs. “Well,” he said finally, “I should probably state that I know for a fact I’ll never get enough of you.”

Patrick squeezed his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, full of emotion. “Can we just stay in bed all day?”

David chuckled, then sighed. “As much as that sounds like an excellent idea, I’m actually starving. I think I’m going to wash off really quick and head out to get us some breakfast. You can take a nap until I’m back. That sound okay?”

Patrick hummed, squeezing his shoulders again. “No pancakes this time, though? I’m kind-of tired of pancakes.”

David sat up sharply, Patrick’s hands falling to his hips. “What?! That’s sacrilege.”

Patrick giggled, his face lighting up. He looked so happy and relaxed, and David’s stomach swooped with an emotion he couldn’t place. It made him jittery, so full of sparkles that he wanted to dance around the room to alleviate some of the energy suddenly filling him.

Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s stomach. “Sorry. You can get pancakes. Who am I to deny you anything right now?”

David grinned and shook his head, leaning down to kiss those happy, shiny lips. “I’ll take pity on you today. Do you like eggs?”

“Mmhmm. And bacon.”

David wrinkled his nose. “I’ll forgive you for that, but only because you’re so cute.”

Patrick laughed and closed his eyes. “Go get ready, David. I’m going to rest a bit. You wore me out.”

David sat there and watched him a for a minute, his heart in his throat. He blinked a couple times, wondering why his eyes suddenly filled up with tears—his whole body bursting with an unfamiliar emotion.

It almost felt a little like love.


	22. Texts with Alexis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're still in David's POV, but that's to be expected. He really wore Patrick out. Patrick needs to rest.

David got out of the shower and dried off, doing his best to cram his normally hour-long beauty routine into just a few minutes. He wanted to get ready, get food, and come back to Patrick. They had at least a few hours of alone time before they had to start working, and he didn’t want to waste any of it.

Wait.

Working.

The club.

_Fuck._

They’d fallen asleep and forgotten to help Stevie close. She probably was _so_ pissed, especially after the whole Sebastien thing and all the drama that followed him.

Padding out of the bathroom, he threw on a pair of long shorts and a sweater, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand before checking on Patrick. 

He was sound asleep, a small smile on his lips, his body bare and spread out on the bed. David’s heart lurched again. God, Patrick made him _feel_ things. Grabbing a blanket, he covered him up and pushed back the desire to kiss his forehead because that would most likely just wake him up. Then he forced himself to step back, grab his shoes, and quietly leave the room.

He needed to go deal with Stevie.

He took the stairs, just to burn off some nervous energy again. Honestly, the stairs hadn’t seen so much action in the entire year he’d lived here. Apparently, Patrick was inadvertently making him start exercising.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Stevie’s door. She was probably up, getting ready for rehearsals.

There was a sound of movement inside and then the door flung open. Stevie stood there, hands on her hips, taking him in.

“Good to see you’re still alive. What the fuck happened to you guys last night? You know I hate closing by myself.”

“I know, sorry. Um, something came up?” David couldn’t get that out of his mouth without smiling. He felt like a 12-year-old.

Stevie’s eyes narrowed. “ _Did_ it, now? How often did it _come_ _up_?”

“Um,” David managed, choking on a laugh. “Do you really want to know?”

She sighed. “Ugh, no.” Then she laughed and punched his shoulder. “Took you guys long enough. I take it the leather was a hit?”

“Um, he didn’t complain, no.”

“So? How was it? Where is he? Things okay? Or, did you already chase away someone who could finally do our taxes right?”

“Things are _fine_. He’s asleep. I’m just going out to grab us breakfast.” David sighed and smiled, thinking back to a sleeping Patrick in his bed. How could he not?

Stevie made a retching noise. “Oh God, this is going to be so much worse than dealing with a miserable David, isn’t it? In love David is already obnoxious, and it’s barely been a couple days.”

David flushed hot. Stevie was a little too on the nose with that, even if she was just teasing.

Her eyes went round. “Wait a minute. You really _do_ like him, don’t you? Like, you _liiiiiike_ him-like him.”

“Um. I—well—I—he’s different—from everyone else I’ve ever been with? He makes me feel things—I realize it’s been only a minute of knowing him—but I’m _happy_.” He groaned and looked up, throwing out his arms and waving them. “Go ahead, make fun of me.”

Stevie was silent for so long that David finally glanced back at her. She stared at him like she’d never seen him before—then her mouth curved into a massive grin.

“Oh. My. God,” she breathed out, giggling.

“Eat glass, Stevie. I need to go get Patrick food. And because I’m a nice boss who just had a really excellent morning, I’ll open the club tonight. You don’t need to come help. Just be there in time to pour drinks.”

She grinned. “I’m not giving you a hard time, David. I think it’s brilliant. I like him. He’s a good guy. He’s going to be really good for you. Plus, he’s got it _baaaad_. Like, he was a goner from the first time he laid eyes on you, and he’s just fallen more over the last couple days.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I know heart-eyes when I see them, and that boy has got them. For _you_. _Big_ -time.”

David bit his lip and tried not to smile. He wasn’t used to feeling so happy. “Well, he might not be alone in that,” he admitted.

Stevie let out a whoop of laughter. “Ok, now I totally forgive you for last night. Glad you got you some, David. I hope it was everything you’ve been missing.”

David cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah. It _definitely_ was.”

Stevie snorted “Well, look at Brewer go! Wouldn’t have thought he’d have it in him.”

David scowled. “Don’t malign the man currently sleeping in my bed.”

Stevie held up her hands. “Far be it for me to malign your boyfriend, David.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he automatically responded.

_He isn't, right? It's too soon for that label. Isn't it?_

“Mmhmm,” Stevie said, rolling her eyes. “Tell that to your face.”

“Seriously, go chew on a coke bottle, Stevie. I’m leaving. See you tonight.”

He stormed out of the apartment to the sound of her laughter.

Once he got outside, the crowd of people around him started to feel oppressive. Pulling out his phone, he texted Alexis.

**Hey, can you text?**

**Yes, what’s up?**

**Remember the guy you talked to Stevie about? Patrick?**

**Um, yes, David. What about him?**

**I slept with him. Last night.**

**And this morning.**

**OMG, eww David.**

**Also, good for you!**

**How was it?**

**Really fucking amazing.**

**😀 😉 😻 So, things are good between you?**

**Things are great.**

**I think I might really like him.**

**Like him, like him.**

**Like how you feel about Ted.**

His phone rang immediately, his sister’s voice shrill in his ear.

“Oh my god, David. This is big!”

“I know. It is. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

“Yeah, well, we never do when we’re falling for someone. Look at how much of an idiot I was over Ted.”

“I know. I guess, I just wanted to ask you something.” He paused. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“David! Ask me! You can’t leave me hanging like this!”

“Um, it’s just—how did you know that Ted was it for you? How did you know you actually loved him?”

The silence was so long that David pulled his phone back to make sure they were still connected. “Alexis? You still there?”

“David. You’ve only known him a few days.” Her voice was soft, hesitant.

“I know. Never mind, forget I asked. Maybe it’s just the glow of really great sex.”

“No, David. Stop. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not shitting on your feelings. Just… be careful, okay?”

“ _You_ said to follow my heart,” David shouted, his voice going high-pitched.

“I did, and you should. I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re so far away now, and what am I supposed to do if you get hurt?”

David smiled, affection for his sister overtaking his annoyance. “I’ll be okay, Alexis. Thank you, though. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Okay. Just—just don’t let it stop you from feeling what you’re feeling, David. If you love him, you love him. Just be careful.”

“I think those things are mutually exclusive, Alexis.”

“Yeah, maybe they are. I don’t know. Are you happy? Right now?”

“I’m so fucking happy.”

“Then I’m happy for you. Now I really have to go. I have an event I’m hosting tonight. Christmas World is doing some kind of fundraiser.”

David stopped walking. “Fundraiser? For what?”

“For themselves. They’re not doing so great. Who would have thought that a year-round Christmas-themed store wouldn’t be sustainable?”

David’s heart rate sped up, ideas forming. “Hey, Alexis?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me the minute there’s an inkling that they may go under. Okay?”

“Okay? Why?”

“I just want to know. I love you. Tell Mom and Dad hi for me.”

He hung up before she could respond, walking through the sea of people toward breakfast.


	23. Dance for Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Patrick's awake!

Patrick opened his eyes and glanced around the room. He was alone.

“David?”

There was no answer from the bathroom, so he yelled it a little louder, in case David was in the kitchen, or something.

Still no answer. He must still be out getting food.

Patrick grinned and flopped back down on the bed. His body felt boneless. Last night was fucking incredible—life changing. So was this morning. In his entire life, he’d never, ever felt the way he felt, here in this bed, with David.

He wasn’t lying when he’d told David he'd always just assumed he was asexual. He honestly had no idea that depth of desire and passion was buried _anywhere_ inside of him, let alone to the extent it was—but one touch from David and it roared through him like a fucking inferno.

He lifted a shaky hand to his face and smiled behind it.

_Holy shit._

He closed his eyes and replayed some of the more x-rated scenes from the past ten hours or so with David—his cock perking up again.

Yeah, _definitely_ into sex. As long as it was with David, at least.

Fuck.

 _David_.

All that dark hair and tan skin and overwhelming presence. He was so tall, so solid—his body so beautiful it made Patrick almost openly weep when he stood naked in front of him like a goddamn birthday present.

And then, oh my God, the sex.

The sex was _incredible_.

Jesus.

So fucking incredible.

He had no idea. How had he not known what it was supposed to feel like before now? No wonder people waged wars over it. God, he sure as hell would fight an angry horde if it meant one more night with David.

The scratchiness of the towel under him brought him back to reality.

Right. The sex was also messy.

Patrick groaned and rolled out of bed, his legs shaky and muscles burning. He needed a shower. Maybe David would be home by the time he got out.

He stumbled into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Did he look like the same person? He didn’t _feel_ like the same person. Not by a long-shot.

Narrowing his eyes, he peered closer at his reflection, then let out a shaky laugh.

Holy shit, David _ruined_ his neck. It was peppered with bright red and purple hickeys, all the way down to his shoulder. How the hell was he supposed to hide those?

He lifted a finger to trace across one particularly angry looking one, right at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and the sharp sting zapped down to his toes. He remembered when that one happened—right when David bit down and made him come so hard it blew his mind.

 _God_.

Laughing again, he shook his head.

_Can’t do much about it now, can you, Brewer?_

Sighing, he turned on the water and stepped under the spray, letting the heat and pulse of the really excellent shower head soothe his overworked muscles.

He had no idea how long he stayed under there, letting his mind wander back to previous events, but eventually he heard the beat of music coming from somewhere in the apartment.

David was definitely home.

He needed to go see him.

Patrick shut off the water and jumped out, quickly drying off and wrapping the towel around his hips. He could go back to his apartment and grab new clothes later. David probably had pajama pants he could borrow, but he wasn’t about to go searching around his room to find some. No matter how much David may possibly like him, Patrick doubted he'd be okay with someone rooting through his things.

He followed the sound of the music—an old Tina Turner song he really liked—and found David in the kitchen, grabbing plates, forks, cups, and setting the table all while shimmying and moving his hips like he’d rehearsed some kind of routine to this particular song.

Patrick stopped, frozen, his heart thumping hard in his chest. David was _dancing_ through his kitchen, and it was the sexiest fucking thing Patrick had ever seen.

He watched him dance, staying silent until the music ended and David giggled, picking up napkins to move them to the table.

“Hi,” Patrick managed. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. His brain was well and properly fried.

David let out a little wheeze of a scream and dropped the napkins, bringing his hands to his heart. As the fabric fluttered to the floor, David bent over, bracing his hands on his knees and laughed. “ _God!_ How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. That was quite the routine, David. You ever thought of auditioning for _Dance Moms_?”

“Shut up, no one was supposed to see that.” David glanced up, his eyes accusatory. Then, he must have taken in Patrick’s lack of an outfit because the accusation in them disappeared, replaced by open desire.

Patrick’s knees went a little weak.

“Oh, I saw, David, and I’m going to want to see it again at some point. I love that song, by the way.”

“Well, yeah, so do I, obviously.” David stalked closer to Patrick, reaching him and wrapping his arms around his neck. “You look nice. This is a very good look.”

“What? Half naked with the _hickeys_ you gave me littering my body?”

David’s eyes flared. “Yeah, that. _Great_ look. Might be my favorite of all your outfits.”

Patrick chuckled and leaned in to kiss David’s neck, wrapping his arms low on his hips. “I need something to wear. Can I borrow a pair of your pajama pants so we can eat?”

“Or, you can stay naked and I can eat something else,” David answered, his voice light and teasing, but his eyes… not.

Patrick tried to regulate his breathing. Yep, he was definitely still interested in sex.

“Um, maybe later. I know you’re hungry for real food, David.”

David sighed and dropped a kiss to Patrick’s forehead. “Fiiiine. I’ll bring you pants, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Noted.”

David disappeared into his bedroom and came back out with a pair of flannel pajamas. “These look like they might be your style. You can have them. Just don’t let Stevie see, because they’re a gift from her. As if I’d _ever_ wear flannel. Honestly.”

Patrick grabbed the pants and grinned, dropping his towel to the floor before he slowly pulled them on.

David’s eyes flared and his mouth dropped open. He visibly gulped and then his eyes narrowed. “You’re a fucking tease, Patrick.”

“Probably. Is it working?”

David laughed and grabbed Patrick’s bicep, pulling him close. “Honey, just being in the same room as you works for me.”

Patrick’s heart thumped again. God, he had it so bad. So, so bad.

“Um, are we going to eat, or what?”

David shot him another grin, the real, sunny one Patrick didn’t think a lot of people saw. “I thought you’d never ask.”

His hand slid down Patrick’s arm, intertwining their fingers as he led him to the table. “I even got you _bacon_.” He said the word with disdain.

Patrick laughed. “Well, thank you? I didn’t realize that was such a hardship for you.”

“It is, and if you want to kiss me again after you eat that, you’re going to need to brush your teeth. A few times.”

“Oh, I definitely want to kiss you again, David, so yeah, I’ll go home and make sure I do that.”

“You won’t have to go home. I keep extra toothbrushes here. I have a very strict rule about throwing them out after a month of use.”

Patrick snorted. “Life with you is not going to be boring, is it, David?”

David glanced up, his expression startled, before softening into something that looked like delighted pleasure. “No. No, it’s probably not. You okay with that?”

“More than okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

David shot him another grin that lit up Patrick from the inside out. Then he handed him a fork.


	24. A Picture Says a Thousand Words

David glanced at his phone. He didn’t want to get up, but it was already 6:00 pm, and he needed to get down to the club. There was still a lot to do, especially since he’d stupidly told Stevie she didn’t have to show up until right before opening. Also, she was absolute shit about closing by herself. Half the tasks never got done.

If he’d known today would mainly consist of lounging on his couch with a topless Patrick, making out like teenagers while they watched baking competitions, he’d have just shut the club down for the night. It was quite possibly the best Monday he’d ever experienced and he didn’t want it to end.

Leaning up slightly, he glanced down at Patrick. His head was tucked into the crook of David’s arm, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. It was becoming a habit, Patrick falling asleep draped over him like this.

David loved it.

But, they still needed to get up.

Sighing, he rubbed his palm over the warm skin of Patrick’s back, lightly shaking him.

“Time to wake up, honey. We have to go to work.”

Patrick groaned and placed a kiss on David’s chest. He refused to open his eyes, the absolute _monster_. Then he reached up and ran a finger down the skin of David's stomach, slow and deliberate. 

Somewhere in the course of the morning, Patrick convinced David to remove his sweater, which meant he’d _also_ been topless all day, which wasn’t normally something he was at all comfortable with. With Patrick, though, it was okay. He felt good about it?

It was the way Patrick looked at him, all wide-eyed and honest—somewhat awestruck. The way he constantly trailed his fingers down David’s skin, making very complimentary comments about his chest and his body hair—and, well, David had no complaints. He’d go shirtless every day if it meant Patrick kept looking at him like that—kept touching him like that. It was fucking brilliant for his self-esteem.

David smiled and shook Patrick's shoulder harder. “You can be as cute and sexy as you want, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still my _business_ partner, and we need to go open the club now.”

Patrick groaned and opened one eye. “You’re very mean. Can’t we just stay here and kiss some more?”

David had to admit, he was very tempted, but he sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “Nope. Get your butt up and put on some clothes. I told Stevie she could come in later than normal, remember? You know, since we got _side-tracked_ and ditched her last night.”

Patrick opened his other eye and scooted up until his lips were hovering over David’s ear. “I’d like to get side-tracked like that again tonight.”

“Mmm, and we can. _After_ we close the club. Get up, I mean it.”

“You’re bossy,” Patrick said, pouting.

“You said you like when I’m bossy.”

“Hmm. I said I like when you’re _assertive_. There’s a difference.”

David laughed, delighted, and rolled, depositing Patrick onto the floor next to the couch.

Patrick stared up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just _discard_ me off your body?!”

David stood and pulled Patrick up until the were face to face, their bodies flush against each other. He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and leaned in, kissing his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his chin—until finally his kissed his lips, soft and sweet. “Sorry, honey, but we’re business owners, and we need to go business now.”

“Fine. But only because I like you so much.”

David nodded, trying to look stern and hide the thrill that shot through him. “Good. Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.”

Patrick growled and kissed David one more time before ducking out from under his arms and heading to the front door. Grabbing his keys from the peg by the door, he started to leave.

“Hey, Patrick?” David called after him.

Patrick stopped and turned. “Yes?”

“I forgot to mention that the club is closed on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. After tonight, you have me all to yourself for the two whole days.”

Patrick’s sweet grin came back, overtaking his face. “Well, that’s something.”

David nodded, warmth flowing through him slow like honey. “Yeah, it sure is.”

***

Stevie had not closed properly, just as David suspected.

“I swear to God, I don’t know why I keep her on the payroll sometimes,” he muttered, grabbing liquor bottles out of boxes and restocking the shelves behind the bar. “There’s a _system_. She knows this!”

Patrick was on the other side of the bar, sweeping. He stopped, setting the broom aside, and leaned over the counter. “Hey, David?”

“What?” David snapped.

“Put the vodka down and come here.”

David sighed, turning to face him. “What do you need, Patrick?”

He was still pretty annoyed at Stevie, but Patrick was so cute, resting his chest on the bar as he leaned forward, beckoning for David to come closer. He couldn’t exactly resist that. Setting the bottle back in the box, David leaned over the counter from the other side and met Patrick halfway.

Patrick’s hand fisted in David’s hair, pulling him in. Then his lips were on his, soft and warm, and David moaned, lost in the feeling. Kissing Patrick was so fucking good—it was crazy how good. It didn’t seem possible.

Then Patrick pulled away and lightly shoved David’s shoulders until they were just staring at each other across the bar—close, but not touching.

David grinned.

Patrick grinned back.

Then they just stayed there, smiling at each other like idiots.

“Feel better?” Patrick asked.

David nodded, ducking his head. He actually _did_. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Any time, David… believe me.”

Stevie’s voice broke through the moment. “You two love-birds done? Is it safe to enter?”

David jumped backward and shrieked.

Patrick dissolved into giggles.

David shot him a glare. “Not funny.”

“Pretty funny, David. That’s the second time you’ve reacted like that to someone spying on you. Is there anything you need to tell us? Is the FBI after you?”

“I just don’t like surprises!” David whined, high-pitched and breathless. He spun toward Stevie. “And you suck at closing.”

“I know, and that’s why I’m here a half-hour earlier than I have to be. Give me a box and I’ll help you stock.”

David huffed out an annoyed breath, but shoved a box down the bar toward her. “Fine. I’ll keep you on the payroll. For now.”

“Glad to hear it,” she deadpanned, shooting Patrick a wink.

Patrick laughed and winked back.

David was not amused.

“I don’t like _this_ dynamic. What’s going on here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Stevie breathed, her voice low and sultry.

Patrick snorted.

“This is fun. This is really fun for me. Thanks, guys,” David growled, stalking out of the bar and up to the office.

He’d been in the office for about half-hour and was ready to head back down when his phone buzzed with a text from Stevie.

He frowned, opening it. Why was she texting him? They hadn’t even opened yet.

It was a picture. Of him and Patrick, staring across the bar at each other. His heart caught in his throat and he clicked on the image to make it larger.

_Oh. Oh wow._

It was a really good picture for a cell shot. David kind-of wanted to blow it up and frame it. It captured _exactly_ how he felt when he looked at Patrick—and apparently how Patrick felt when he looked at him.

They both had goofy grins on their faces, which were angled slightly toward the camera, but their eyes were locked on each other. Even though they were on opposite sides of the bar and not touching, David could feel the electric pull between them blasting out of the photo like a bolt of lightning—like at any moment, they were going to launch themselves across the bar and attack each other, spectators be damned.

David’s stomach swooped. It was a pretty amazing photo.

He started to text Stevie back, to tell her thanks, but she beat him to it—her next message appearing before he could hit send.

**I really like this for you.**

So did he.

 _God_ , so did he.


	25. Melting the Ice

There was going to be a _much_ larger learning curve to running the club than Patrick anticipated. It was so _full-on_ , all the time, from when the doors opened to when they finally had to kick people out. Throughout it all, things still had to run smoothly—fights had to be contained, drug use had to be monitored and stopped, exhibitionists had to be discouraged—it was a lot to handle.

Yet, David handled it all with some kind of effortless grace. Patrick was seriously in awe of him. The David he knew upstairs—the sweet, shy, hesitant, uncertain David—completely disappeared the minute he stepped onto the floor and started working the room. It was like he put on another persona—like one of his giant sweaters.

Patrick was a little surprised, more than a little turned-on, and a whole lot curious about the story behind it. David kept astonishing him.

At any rate, Patrick was feeling far less confident about the whole “take charge and run this club” portion of co-owning this business than he had been previously. He still had a _ton_ to learn in order to feel comfortable and confident enough to run things by himself—to be comfortable enough for David to be able to leave for a week or so.

He wanted David to have the opportunity to go back home and see his family. It was important to Patrick because it was important to David—even if David wouldn’t come right out and say it. But, after only a couple nights in the club, Patrick was beginning to understand why David hadn’t done it yet.

This place was a _huge_ responsibility.

He shook his head and sank down on a bar stool, watching David argue with someone who’d had a bit too much to drink. Patrick bit the side of his cheek and kept an eye on the situation—just in case he needed to go interject. David might be bigger, but Patrick could be scrappy when the situation called for it.

“David’s got it, don’t worry,” Stevie said from behind him. “You can calm down with the worried protector vibe. You and I both know he’s a big, squishy marshmallow, but _these_ people don’t know that. Most people are scared of him around here. He’s got a _reputation_ for being a regal iceberg who’s able to cut people in half with a look.”

“David’s not an iceberg,” Patrick shot back, still watching the man in question. His memory flashed back to cuddling on the couch, David’s lips trailing light kisses on his forehead. He was definitely _not_ anything even remotely icy.

“Again, we both know that. But, trust me, David knows how to play the part and he does it really well. It works for him—for this place, at least.”

“We he like this? Back in Canada?” he asked, risking a quick glance at her. He still wanted to keep an eye on David.

Stevie bobbed her head back and forth. “Yes and no. At first, _definitely_. It was really hard to break through his protective barrier, but once I did, he was all David underneath. The real David. That’s my favorite version of him—yours too, I think.”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. Although, I’m a little fascinated by the David handling that drunk right now. It’s impressive. Where the hell did he learn to do that?”

“You’ve yet to meet his family. Specifically, his mother. Once you do, it will all make sense.”

“How long did it take you to get through? For him to let you see the real David?”

“Oh God, _months_ , and not for my lack of trying. I was super intrigued and _way_ into him at the time,” she said, laughing. “I’m not proud of what an idiot I was, but I’m sure you understand the effect he has on people.”

“Uh, yeah. That goes without saying.”

“Mmhmm. Hey.” She touched his shoulder and spun him around to face her. “For what it’s worth, Brewer, he’s opened up to you faster than I’ve ever seen him open up to anyone—in all the years I’ve known him.”

“Well, I doubt it’s all to do with me. He _did_ say that the town changed him.” Still, Stevie’s words sent a jolt of _something_ through his body.

“Mmm, yeah, it did. But not _that_ drastically. He still protects himself, especially when it comes to relationships.”

Patrick glanced down at his hands, then back up at her. “I really like him, Stevie. He’s—something special. I don’t want you to think I’m insincere about that.”

“Of course you aren’t. I’ve seen you guys together. I know you like him. He likes you, too. In fact,” she paused, reaching under the bar to grab her phone. “I may have been spying on you two earlier—by _accident_ ,” she emphasized, once Patrick opened his mouth to protest. “I sent this to David earlier, but you should see it too.”

She handed him the phone, the screen opened to a photo of him and David staring at each other from across the bar.

All the breath left Patrick’s body.

_Oh._

He stared at it a few seconds longer. “I’m going to need you to send this to me, Stevie.”

“Yup. I figured.”

He handed her back the phone and turned to watch David again, his heart pounding. _God_. That photo pretty much said everything he hadn’t been able to say out loud to David.

“He’s seen that?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything, but I’m going to hazard a guess that he probably reacted much like you are right now.” Stevie’s tone was amused.

Patrick huffed out a laugh, his heart still beating heavily in his throat.

David had dispatched the drunk out of the club with the help of a bouncer and was heading their direction. He still moved with the same icy poise that had earned him his _reputation_ , and Patrick blinked, sucking in a breath. It was actually _really_ sexy.

Patrick took it as a personal challenge—to be able to kiss all that ice away. He wanted to start doing that as soon as they locked the damn doors and closed this place down for two days.

David reached them and sat down next to Patrick, their gazes connecting. There was a flash of warmth in those dark, dark eyes, and a soft smile played about his lips before disappearing. “Hi. How’s your first night going?”

“Um, not as dramatically as yours. That was impressive, what you just did there.”

David sat up straighter, looking proud. “ _Thank_ you. All in a night’s work.”

“I see that. I’m actually feeling pretty unsure of myself here, David. I thought this would be easier.”

David’s eyes finally fully warmed and he leaned forward, taking Patrick’s hand in his and squeezing it lightly before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. Then he leaned back against the bar, letting their hands drop onto his lap, fingers still intertwined, as he surveyed the crowd.

It was such an unexpected, public show of affection, especially given Stevie’s very recent speech about his iceberg reputation. Patrick gasped a little, hazarding a glance back at Stevie.

She looked delighted, her mouth stretched in a huge grin. She raised her eyebrows and winked before walking away to help other patrons at the bar.

David squeezed his hand again. “You’ll get used to it. It’s only the first night you’ve really been down here. I know it can be a bit overwhelming. It still is for me, most of the time. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Patrick glanced over at him, surprised. “Then why do you do it?”

David shrugged. “I wanted to prove I could.”

“Of course you could, David. I’m pretty sure you can do _anything_ you set your mind to.”

David’s head swiveled and he stared at Patrick, his dark eyes wide and wild. Then he blinked and they went back to normal. He squeezed Patrick’s hand one more time before letting go and reaching for a glass of wine Stevie deposited on the bar between them. “ _Thank_ you.”

Patrick felt the loss of David’s warmth like a physical blow. He frowned and flexed his fingers, staring down at them for a second.

David must have noticed his expression because he made a small humming noise and shook his head. “Patrick, I’d hold your hand all night if I could. But this place—it’s not a good place to show any vulnerabilities. These people will eat you up and spit you out, and I can’t let that happen.”

“I can handle it, David. Besides, I’m supposed to be equal partners with you here. I should probably _expect_ people to go for my jugular—totally separate from the fact that we occasionally kiss.”

“Occasionally?” David’s tone was very amused as he watched the crowd. “I seem to recall a different frequency.”

Patrick smiled over at him, feeling a little better. “Well, we can definitely work on upping the frequency.”

“Oh, _can_ we?” David turned and grinned at him.

Patrick’s heart flipped over. God, the _force_ of that smile. “Mmhmm. I seem to recall you mentioning that I have you all to myself for two whole days. I plan on making good use of my time.”

David’s grin morphed into a happy, fond smile, all dimples and soft eyes. “Well, I’m looking forward to witnessing your time-management skills.”

Patrick snorted and stood. “I think I’m going to go check the register stats. See where we’re at tonight.”

David nodded. “I’ll keep watch down here. Enjoy your boring numbers, honey.”

Patrick smiled and resisted the urge to kiss David silly in front of all these people. He _adored_ the pet name, and truly believed David didn’t realize he said it as often as he did.

“I’ll come back down once we close,” he promised, and then made his way upstairs.

Once he was in the office, Patrick’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

Stevie sent him the picture.

Patrick opened it and sank down onto a chair, studying it for a while, everything inside him bright and hopeful.


	26. Basement Canoodling

David never looked forward to his days off more than he did right now. All he really wanted to do was close the doors and push all his customers out into the New York night. They were annoying him. They were keeping him away from Patrick and from quiet.

From quiet _with_ Patrick.

Growling, he downed his glass of wine and stood, glancing at the time on his phone. Only two more hours until closing. He’d have to survive. Until then, he needed a minute away from all the chaos. He _could_ go up to the office, but then he’d just distract Patrick, who was actually _trying_ to work on their books. David didn’t want to be a distraction.

He could wait. He had two whole days to learn exactly how to take Patrick apart and make him scream. More than he already did, at least.

He smiled, remembering just how _much_ he’d made him scream earlier. Yeah, he needed more of that.

He turned to Stevie and motioned to himself and to then pointed down, indicating the basement.

She nodded, and David slipped through the door behind the bar, into the hallway that led to their makeshift storage unit-slash-wine cellar.

There was a couch down there—well-worn and ugly, but it was comfortable. David sank into it and sighed, covering his eyes with his arm.

Before Patrick showed up, he’d been starting to hate this place—the club, New York. He’d made a mistake by coming back. He missed his family, missed that stupid town. But, he’d sunk all his money into this business and he’d dragged Stevie along for the ride. He couldn’t walk away now. It wasn’t fair to her. She loved it here… she was happy doing theater and hanging out with the nightlife of New York City.

David wasn’t anymore.

When Alexis said Christmas World was having problems, David felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he could make something out of the crazy idea he’d once had. Maybe he could make a home for himself back where his family was.

But, now there was Patrick.

Patrick, with his soft brown eyes and beautiful smile, who wanted to invest in the business and make it more profitable. Who also somehow wanted to spend the next couple days upping the frequency of their amazing kisses.

He’d have never met Patrick if not for this place. If not for New York.

So, David had to hate it a little less, right?

Sighing, he pulled out his phone—looked at the picture Stevie had taken. Ran his finger down the screen, touching Patrick’s image. Then he bit his lip and forwarded the photo to his sister.

She texted back almost immediately.

**Is that him?!**

**Well, I certainly hope I don’t look at anyone else like that.**

**Wow, David. He’s cute.**

**Yeah. He is.**

**Um, David?**

**Yes?**

**That photo is 🔥 ❤️**

**I know. That’s how I feel about him. That’s what I was trying to explain to you earlier.**

**Yeah, I understand now.**

**Wow, David.**

**Yeah, wow.**

**I’m happy for you. You deserve love. Looks like maybe you found it.**

David didn’t know how to answer, so he placed his phone on his stomach and stared up at the ceiling. He’d just stay down here for an hour, and then he’d head back up so they could close. The thumping of the bass above him became a calming, white noise and David shut his eyes—he just needed to rest them for a minute.

***

He woke to a soft voice repeating his name and a warm hand on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he found Patrick leaning over him, smiling, his eyes alight and full of emotion.

“Hey, there. Sleeping on the job? David, I’m so disappointed.” Patrick’s soft, amused tone negated his words.

“Shit, did I fall asleep?” David scrambled to sit up, but Patrick held a hand to his chest, stopping him.

“No, don’t move. We don’t have to go up right away. You’ve only been down here about an hour. I just came to look for you and found you like this.” He rubbed David’s cheek again. “This looks like a very comfortable couch. May I join you?”

David scooted over, instinctively reaching for his phone to move it off his stomach.

Patrick noticed the movement. “Oh, um, it’s on the floor. You must have knocked it off when you were sleeping.”

“Oh. Okay. C’mere.” David patted the cushion next to him.

Patrick hummed and snuggled in, curling up next to David, his arm wrapped around his waist, his head buried against his neck, and their legs intertwined. “This is nice,” he murmured against David’s skin.

“Yeah. Do we really have to go upstairs?”

“I think if we make Stevie close by herself two nights in a row she might revolt.”

David sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m going to need you to put that in writing. I feel like I’m not going to hear it very often.”

David snorted, lightly smacking Patrick on the shoulder. “Don’t be mean.”

Patrick chuckled, his breath warm on David’s skin. “We can’t stay here like this for too long. We’ll both fall asleep, and then she’ll murder us down here and our bodies will never be found.”

“Mmm, correct. Good point.”

“Just for a minute though,” Patrick added, kissing David’s neck.

David hummed in pleasure and arched his back, moving his head to allow Patrick better access.

“Why, David,” Patrick whispered, kissing his way up to David’s jawline, “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” David gasped as Patrick’s tongue lightly traced his earlobe.

“Probably,” Patrick agreed, then pulled back to stare at David’s face for a second, running his finger against David’s lips, pulling the lower one down slightly, his eyes focused on the movement. “You’re so fucking pretty, David. I want to kiss you all the time.”

David went liquid, his blood pumping through his veins slow, like molasses. “God, Patrick. _Please_ do.”

Patrick nodded, still staring at David’s lips. Then he leaned in and set David’s world on fire.


	27. Just Breathe

Patrick pushed the mop across the dance floor, not really focusing on what he was doing. He watched David and Stevie as they griped at each other behind the bar, shoving liquor bottles back and forth, and he tried his very best not to scream. That would _very_ much give away all the chaotic thoughts and feelings bouncing around his head right now.

The main one being—why the fuck didn’t David have a _lock_ on his phone?!

When Patrick walked downstairs and found David sleeping on the old and very ugly couch, all he wanted to do was snuggle in next to him. Then he saw David’s phone lying on the couch by his side and went to move it.

When he picked it up, the display lit, and then there was David’s text chain with Alexis for all the world to see. Patrick wasn’t planning on reading it, but then he saw the picture— _the_ _picture_ —and he couldn’t help himself.

He’d been stressing all night about what David thought of that photo. Wondering if it affected David in the same way it did him. And then, miraculously, there was the answer right in front of him, in David’s own _words_. Of course he was going to read it. It was like a crazy twist of fate. He’d be stupid _not_ to read it.

_That’s how I feel about him. That’s what I was trying to explain to you earlier._

The words kept repeating on a loop in Patrick’s brain, filling him with butterflies and happiness and… terror, really.

He’d never felt this way before. About anyone. Not even the woman he’d been planning on marrying until recently. It had only been a few days since he met David. How was he already completely head-over-heels _gone_ for the first guy he’d ever kissed? How was that even possible? That fact alone was crazy.

But, now he also had tangible proof that David felt the same way!

David discussed him with his sister—and not just once, but at least a couple times. David tried to explain to her how he felt about _him_ —some boring, small-town guy who only just recently sorted out that he was gay. _Him_ —a guy who basically ran away from his _wedding_ and found David in the first establishment he walked into in New York City.

What even _was_ his life right now?

He was in the middle of some kind of dream. He had to be. Things like this didn’t happen to him. His life was boring, predictable, filled full of everyone else’s expectations—what he should do, where he should work, who he should marry—even what gender he should want to fuck.

It was NOT _this_ life. This life of gay clubs, rent-free apartments, and waking up next to the most gorgeous man on the planet.

It was _not_ nights and mornings and afternoons filled with amazing, incredible, life-altering sex. It was not filled with sweet kisses that turned his world upside-down.

The new life laid out in front of him was not _his_ life. How could it be? A life like this was never even within the realm of possibilities for him, and yet… here he was, finding himself all wrapped up in a beautiful, black and white sweater and leather pants wearing package of a man.

Patrick stared at David and started to hyperventilate. This was all too much. How was any of this even possible? It couldn’t actually be real.

He leaned forward, holding himself up with the mop handle, trying to suck air into his suddenly empty lungs. He started to see spots dancing around at the edge of his vision.

_Oh no. Oh no. Not again._

Then, before he could sink to the ground, there were warm hands on his shoulders, David’s soft voice right in his ears.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Breathe, sweetie, breathe, okay? In and out, just focus on breathing. In and out.”

Patrick nodded and scrunched his eyes shut, listening to David and Stevie talk around him, their voices far away and tinny.

“What’s wrong with him, David?”

“I don’t know. I think he might be having a panic attack. I need to get him upstairs.”

“Yeah, yes! Go! I can finish up here. We’re basically done, anyway.”

“Thanks, Stevie.”

Then, David was picking him up and carrying him. Patrick vaguely remembered this feeling of weightlessness from when he was drunk, and he scrunched his eyes tighter. God, David had carried him out of this bar like this twice already, and it hadn’t even been a week. How fucking embarrassing. He buried his face against David’s shoulder and gasped out an apology.

“Shh, shh, honey. It’s okay. We’re going to get you upstairs, all right? Your bed or mine? Where do you want to be tonight? Do you want to be alone?”

“NO!” Patrick gasped. “Sorry, no. Your bed. Don’t leave me.”

David dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m not going anywhere. My bed it is. We’re almost there, okay? Keep focusing on breathing for me.”

Patrick nodded and tried to suck in some air. It was still really difficult to do.

Then he was lying on soft sheets, David’s cedar and pine scent filling the air around him. David’s hands were on him—unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his belt. Patrick caught his hands but David shook him off.

“I’m just getting you comfortable, Patrick. It will be easier for you to breathe if you get these jeans off. Your clothes are too tight for you to be able to breathe. I’m not trying anything funny, I promise.”

Patrick nodded, trying to formulate words. “Okay. Yours too. Want to feel your skin.”

David’s hands paused and he cleared his throat. “Okay. Mine too. Just work with me first, okay? I need you to help me out here.”

Patrick nodded, sitting up when David told him to, lying down when he told him to, and then he was shivering in the cold of the room, feeling lost. There was a brief moment of quiet and then David scooted next to him, the heat of his body radiating, breaking through the cold and the fear.

Patrick gasped and instinctively curled up into David’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist. David made a soft sound, and then covered them both with the fluffy comforter. The scent of cedar and pine was everywhere now, soothing. Patrick started to calm, his breath finally starting to fill his lungs. His heart began to slow down from its scary staccato.

“That’s it, honey. You’re doing great. It’s okay. Just breathe. I’m right here.”

“Thank you, David.

“Shh. It’s okay. You’ll be okay in a little bit.”

Patrick nodded again, squeezing David’s waist tight, his face pressed up against David’s skin—chest hair tickling his cheek. He drew in deep breaths—blew them out—drew them in—blew them out.

If felt like forever, but his heart rate finally evened out and he could breathe freely again. Cold numbness started to leave to his fingers, his hands, his arms.

Sighing, he squeezed David again, drawing a soft noise out of him. Patrick dropped another kiss to his chest.

“I’m okay now.”

David was quiet a moment, then squeezed back. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, if you don’t want, but sometimes it helps.”

“Yeah. Actually I do.” He pulled back and stared at David in the soft light of the room. The city lights filtering through the curtains cast everything in a slightly pink glow, and David was more beautiful than normal—almost ethereal. But, he also looked hesitant, worried.

Patrick didn’t blame him. Before he could say anything, David chewed his lip and scrunched his face, closing his eyes tight. “Just—first—a-are we okay? If we’re not, tell me right now, because I’m going to need to put some clothes on. Being next to you like this—not knowing if you’re done with me—I just need to know, okay?”

“What? David! No. I’m not done with you. Come here.” Patrick grabbed his shoulders and hauled him close, pressing a kiss to his neck.

David shuddered against him, breathing out a long, sigh. “Oh, thank God.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to scare you.”

“No. Don’t apologize. Panic attacks are awful. I hated seeing you like that. I know how bad it feels to be in the middle of one.” David pulled back, resting his palm on Patrick’s cheek as he stared at him. “Do you get them often?”

Patrick shook his head. “No. That was only the second time ever, in my life.”

David watched him quietly for a minute. “When was the first time?”

Patrick blinked, then rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. “About a month ago.”

“What instigated it? Is it okay to ask?”

Patrick nodded. “It’s just—there’s a lot you don’t know about me, David. I’m afraid if I tell you about my past that you won’t look at me the same—that it will change what’s happening between us.”

“Hey, if anyone needs to worry about their past, it’s me. You don’t even know the awful shit I’ve done in my life. The way I was— _who_ I was before. Trust me, anything you tell me will have _nothing_ on David Rose, historically speaking.”

Patrick blew out a breath and forged ahead. “I was engaged. Up until a month ago, I was engaged. To a woman.”

David didn’t move. Patrick expected him to flinch, or something, but he stayed perfectly still. “Okay. Is that all?” David’s voice was soft, understanding.

How was he understanding? Didn’t he understand what an awful person Patrick was?

“You don’t get it, David. I was _engaged_. We were in the middle of our fucking rehearsal dinner, and I had a panic attack. In front of God and everyone. Dropped to the floor, couldn’t breathe, the whole shebang.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I called off the wedding the day it was supposed to happen. I just—I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry her. She was heartbroken, her family was pissed, but I couldn’t do it. Everyone expected it of me, and I couldn’t come through in the clutch.”

David kissed his forehead, soft and fleeting. “I don’t know what means, but I’m very glad you didn’t go through with it, Patrick.”

“ _She’s_ not.”

“No, I don’t imagine so, but Patrick—you’re very, very gay.”

Patrick barked out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“So, you definitely should not have married a woman. You made the right choice. I’m sorry she’s hurt, but Patrick, you would have been hurt your _whole_ _life_ if you’d done it. You wouldn’t have ever been able to be _you_.”

Patrick wanted to cry. David was right. He was absolutely right, but he still felt like a horrible person.

“She hates me. My parents are so confused. They keep texting, telling me to come home.”

“Do they know? About you being gay.”

Patrick shook his head. “No. Not exactly something I want to spring on them over the phone. I should tell them in person. I think that’s something that should be said in person.”

David nodded. “It’s something you need to do on your own terms, Patrick. Tell them when you’re ready. No one should force you into that.”

Patrick sat up and looked down at him. “You’re okay with it? Sleeping with someone whose family has no idea about their orientation?”

David’s eyebrows drew together. “Of course. My reality isn’t everyone’s reality. I know that.”

“How did you do it? Come out to your parents, I mean?”

“Well, it was a little different for me, due to the fact that I also sleep with women, and my parents were not actually involved in my life for a very long time. Most of my life, really. Alexis and I kind-of raised ourselves, and we did a pretty piss-poor job of it. Anyway, I was in high school, and I brought a couple home and told my parents to deal with it.”

Patrick laughed, shaking his head. “You’re seriously amazing, David.”

David grimaced. “No, I’m seriously a mess. You’ll figure that out soon enough, so please don’t beat yourself up over something as perfectly normal as realizing you can’t live your life to meet everyone else’s expectations. You have to live your life for _you_ , Patrick. Not anyone else.”

Patrick blinked, everything clicking into place in his head. He blinked again. “David. _Fuck_.” Grabbing him around the waist, he buried his face in David’s chest and cried.


	28. Early Morning Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's another short one. I promise longer ones are on the horizon. 
> 
> Normally I write POV changes in the same chapter w/ a break between them, but I'm not doing that with this one--so that's why.

David wasn’t used to anyone crying on his shoulder—well, on his ribs, really. It was always the other way around. David usually was the weak one—the crier, the person in the relationship who barely received awkward hand pats followed by loud sighs of annoyance. Everyone always referred to him as the dramatic one—the one who was hard to love.

Not that he thought Patrick was being weak or dramatic—quite the opposite, actually. He was being fucking _brave_ , so David squeezed him tighter, murmuring words of encouragement… the kind he wished he’d gotten all those times he found himself crying over stress and heartbreak.

“It’s okay. Let it out, honey. You’ll feel better once you let it all out.”

Patrick snuffled against his bicep and shuddered, sobbing harder.

David’s own eyes filled with tears and he blinked them back. He didn’t want to make this about him. It wasn’t about him—it was about Patrick coming to grips with who he really was and what he wanted out of life. David’s own demons needed to stay in the past right now. Clearing his throat, he kissed the top of Patrick’s head and bit his lip, drawing in a shaky breath of his own.

This was a lot. This feeling of intimacy. David didn’t usually _do_ intimacy. Not like this. He should be completely freaking out, and yet—he wasn’t. He just wanted to hold Patrick until the other man felt a little bit better, which was very unexpected.

It felt like they stayed there forever, but eventually Patrick’s breathing began to even out, the hiccuppy sounds he made slowing down until they stopped.

David let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and squeezed Patrick one more time. “You okay?”

Patrick nodded against his chest. “Yeah.” His voice sounded thick and so _very_ tired.

“Go to sleep, honey. We don’t have to be anywhere for two days. We can talk more when you wake up. Rest as long as you need.”

Patrick nodded again. “Okay. Stay here until I fall asleep?”

“As if I’d go anywhere,” David chided, snuggling down further into the covers and drawing Patrick closer.

“David, I can feel how tense you are.”

Was he tense? He didn’t think he was… at least not enough that Patrick should be able to notice.

“If I am, it has nothing to do with you crying, Patrick,” he reassured him. “I promise.”

“Then, why?”

David bit his lip and tried to think how best to explain how he felt. “It’s just—I’ve always been the one on your side of this right now. The one who’s crying over something. Nothing as big as this, of course, but still—I’m the one who usually has needed comforting.” He snorted and squeezed Patrick. “Not that anyone actually comforted me, mind you, but still.” 

Patrick made a dark noise. “Then they were all assholes.”

“Mmm. Not going to contradict you there.” David drew in a breath. “It’s just—I’ve always been the weak one. I’m not used to being—I don’t know—responsible? Responsible for someone else’s emotions. Usually, it’s other people dealing with mine, and _historically_ , people have never cared enough to really do that.” He shrugged. “So, this is something I’m not used to. It feels big. For me. I guess I’m just processing. And, wait, that sounds wrong. I don’t think you’re being weak, not at all. Just, usually, when I’m the one crying, it’s because I am.”

Patrick pulled back and stared at him, his eyes puffy and his nose red. “David, you’re not weak. I’m sorry that _historically_ , people were awful to you and let you believe that, but I care about your emotions, okay? _I_ _care_. If those people didn’t, that was on them, not you. You have never been weak. I think you just surrounded yourself with people who didn’t deserve you.”

David blinked, too overcome by the earnest, forceful statement to speak for a minute. He leaned over and kissed Patrick’s forehead. “Go to sleep, honey. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Patrick watched him for a second finally nodded, closing his swollen eyes.

After a while, his strong grip around David’s waist loosened and his breathing slowed—evened out. David carefully disentangled himself and sat up, quietly getting out of bed and heading to the living room. Patrick needed to sleep, and David needed some time continue processing.

***

David tried to find the early light of dawn as he stared out his window. However, the never-ending flashing lights of the city made that nearly impossible. In the year he’d lived here, David had never missed the quiet of the country more than he did right now. He was barely ever awake before 10 am back at the hotel, but when he was, the soft, pale pink of morning was one of his favorite colors, watching it grow and spread out over the horizon—listening to the birds wake up. He felt so much peace in those moments.

He didn’t ever get to experience the same feeling here.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he spent the last few hours pacing the apartment, trying to focus on funny videos on his phone, trying to sketch out some ideas in his journal, trying to do _anything_ to keep from going into the bedroom. He’d just wind up tossing and turning and ultimately waking up Patrick.

Sighing, he walked back into the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee, carefully adding just the right amount of cream, sugar, and cocoa. He took a sip and wrinkled his nose. Maybe not the _perfect_ amount, but it would have to do. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this mixture of exhausted and wired. Not since his hard-partying days, anyway, and he definitely hadn’t fallen back into that pattern yet.

It just had been a hell of a few days.

“Hey,” Patrick’s soft voice cut through David’s thoughts.

David whirled around, sloshing some coffee onto his hand. “Ow! Hi! What are you doing up?”

Patrick rushed over and plucked the cup out of David’s hand, setting in on the counter and pulling David over to the sink. He turned on the cold water and placed David’s hand under it. “You’re so jumpy. Are you okay?”

David hissed at the cold, but stared at Patrick in surprise. He had not expected that reaction. When was the last time someone had done _anything_ like that for him? Had anyone _ever_? Even as close as his family was now, he wasn’t sure that they would ever think to do something like that.

“I’m okay,” his voice came out hoarse, strangled. For some inexplicable reason, he felt like crying.

Patrick looked up at him, face full of concern. “Are you sure?”

David blinked back tears. “Mmhmm. Yeah. It wasn’t that hot. It just caught me by surprise.”

“Then why are you crying?” Patrick’s voice was so soft, his eyes so wide and worried. He reached up and traced the skin under David’s eyes, under the frame of his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

David blinked again. The soft, tentative touch broke something open inside him. As he stared into Patrick’s sweet, beautiful eyes, he realized something pretty profound.

_Nothing. Nothing is wrong right now. I think everything is finally fucking right._

He yanked his hand out from under the water to grab the back of Patrick’s head, pulling him forward. Then he leaned in and kissed him.


	29. General, Yet Very Specific Dreams

The shock of David’s ice cold hand and water dripping down the back of Patrick’s neck, combined with the heat and urgency of David’s mouth, made Patrick’s brain short-circuit.

He was still muzzy from sleep, eyes heavy from crying the night before, and he’d woken up to find the bed cold beside him. Now David was kissing him like he wanted to take him apart on the kitchen floor, and Patrick couldn’t think straight.

“David, wait,” he gasped, trying to breathe.

David dropped his hand and jumped back, his eyes wide, but still blazing. “Sorry, sorry. I just—I guess I just needed to kiss you all of the sudden.”

Patrick stepped forward, crowding David against the counter, and wrapped him up in a tight hug. Tension poured out from David, and Patrick hated that his startled reaction to the kiss probably put it there.

“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me like that. I just needed to clear my head for a second.”

He pulled back and stared up at him. David had dark circles under his eyes and he lookedcompletely exhausted. “David. Have you slept at all?”

David shook his head. “No.”

“David, you need to sleep!”

“I know. I just couldn’t shut my brain off. I didn’t want to bother you. I get like this sometimes. Nervous energy, I guess? Some might even venture to call me high-strung….”

Patrick chuckled. “C’mon, David. Lay down on the couch with me?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” David agreed.

Once they were settled in on the couch, legs intertwined and Patrick’s head resting on David’s chest, he felt some of the tension vibrating in David’s body begin to relax.

He lazily drew circles on David’s skin and snuggled into his warmth.

“I didn’t like waking up and not finding you next to me,” he admitted. “Which is weird. I’ve never been someone who has necessarily enjoyed sharing my bed with anyone.”

“Hmm. Like your ex-fiancé, for instance?” David sounded both uncertain and amused. He was probably the only person in the world who could pull off such differing emotions at the same time. It was adorable.

“Yeah, especially her.”

“How long did you live with her?”

“I didn’t.”

David shifted, and Patrick glanced up to find dark eyes studying him. “Wait, what? You were engaged, but you didn’t live together? How long did you guy’s date?”

“Since high school.”

David’s eyebrows rose higher. “Okay, now we’re really going to need to discuss this. That long and you never moved in together?”

Patrick sighed and ran his hand down David’s forearm. He just liked touching David’s skin, especially when he was trying to come up with words to adequately say what he was feeling.

There had been a lot of these touches happening yesterday.

“It never felt right. I mean, obviously I know why now, but I never really let myself think about the whys when we were together. Part of the panic at rehearsal was from realizing we were going to have to share an apartment, and I’d never have my own space again. That her stuff would be mixed in with mine, and I’d never be my own person again.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s perfectly understandable, Patrick. I thought we covered this last night. You are very, very gay.”

Patrick laughed, digging his fingers in David’s ribs. “Smartass.”

David yelped and giggled, shimmying his hips underneath Patrick. “Hey, no tickling!”

Patrick stopped and dropped a light kiss to David’s sternum.

David giggled again and settled back down.

“Seriously, though, Patrick. You have your own apartment here. If at any point you need some time to yourself, I understand. I wouldn’t blame you if you need to go chill away from me. I know I can be exhausting, and we’ve kind-of spent four days attached to each other.”

Patrick shook his head. “I don’t mind it. That’s what I’m trying to say. Usually, I’d be going out of my mind, needing to just be alone, but I don’t feel that way around you. And you’re not exhausting.”

“Not yet,” David said, his voice amused, but his body tensing up again.

Patrick sighed and rested his chin on David’s chest, studying his face. “You fascinate me, David. I like spending time with you. Apart from all the sexual stuff, which is new, and great, and amazing—but, just hanging out with you, too. It feels—I don’t know… comfortable? I don’t feel like I need to escape or hide, at least.”

David hummed. “I’m sorry you felt that way for so long, Patrick. No one should have to live like that.”

“Well, it’s okay now, isn’t it?” He flopped his head back down and breathed David in. “You need to go to sleep. How much coffee have you had, anyway?”

“Like six cups,” David sounded sheepish.

“David! Ugh.” He lightly smacked his stomach. “Well, we can talk for a bit until you come down off your caffeine high. What did you do while I was asleep?”

“Oh, watched some videos, drew some stuff, tried not to make too much noise and wake you up.”

Patrick sat up and braced himself over David. “Drew some stuff? I didn’t know you could draw.”

David blushed. “Well, I’m not great, or anything, but I like to design things. Before we lost everything, that’s what I did. I owned an art gallery.” He shrugged. “I didn’t find out until later that my parents basically funded my whole career, and honestly, the fine-art scene in New York is filled with horrible people I should never have spent any amount of time with, but I liked the actual art aspect of it.”

“What did you draw? This morning? Can I see?”

David’s face scrunched up. “Umm…”

“You don’t have to show me, if you don’t want. It’s okay. I just wanted to see what makes you… well, you. I guess I want to know what’s important to you.”

David bit his lip, his dimples appearing, but his eyes stayed scrunched shut. “Well, how am I supposed to say no to that?”

Patrick laughed. “I wasn’t trying to butter you up.”

“Well, you did. Here, let me up.”

Patrick scooched over and let David stand, watching as he walked across the room, his body lithe and graceful, even wearing crazy sweatpants that didn’t make any sense. Patrick really appreciated the lack of sweater, anyway. He could look at David’s body all day and never get bored.

David grabbed a black notebook from the kitchen island and came back to the couch, sitting down next to Patrick and flipping through pages until he stopped and shyly handed it over. “Here. This is what I was working on.”

Patrick leaned over and gave David a light kiss before grabbing the book and studying the pages. David had drawn schematics of what looked like a store, its décor both modern and inviting, somehow. It was ridiculously detailed, and David was far more talented than he gave himself credit for.

Patrick sucked in a breath and turned the page. It was covered in different sketches of what looked like product labels, all the designs different, but the name the same.

“Rose Apothecary? What’s that?”

David smiled, the edges of his lips a little sad. “Nothing. It’s just the dream I was telling you about, the idea I had. Before I lost out to year-round Christmas.”

“Oh! The general store.”

“Mmm. A general, yet very specific store, yes.”

Patrick grinned, staring down at the labels and then flipping back to the schematic. “Is this what it looks like inside?”

“The proportions are right—the windows and floors, the doors—but the rest of the stuff, no. That’s from my imagination. When I saw it last, it was just a big empty space.”

“You drew the proportions from memory? That’s really impressive, David.” It really was. David had basically drawn a detailed architectural depiction of the store. “Did you go to school for this?”

David laughed. “Hardly. My education was a random assortment of private schools, parties, and very bad decisions. I didn’t go to college.”

“You could have. With this talent, you could have.” He glanced over at David, who was studying him, an odd expression on his face.

“Well, thank you for saying that, Patrick.”

Patrick shrugged. “It’s the truth. I like the name, by the way. Rose Apothecary. It’s just pretentious enough.”

David’s face scrunched in on itself again. “Would we call it pretentious—or timeless?”

Patrick huffed out a laugh and started to flip through the rest of the pages, but David grabbed the book out of his hands and shut it. “Okay, no. Let’s not delve that deeply into my psyche.”

Patrick eyed the notebook in David’s hand and smiled. “What do I have to do to see the rest?”

David let out a giggle and placed it on the coffee table. “I’m sure I could come up with something.”

Patrick grinned and shoved him down on the couch, curling up next to him, half on David—half smooshed against the cushions, his legs draped over his. “As tempting as that sounds, you need to sleep, David.”

“So bossy.”

“I want you rested. We have two whole days to spend together. I’m not wasting them with something as boring as sleep.”

David smiled. “Well, when you put it like that, I probably should take a nap, at least.”

“You really should.”

David nodded and closed his eyes. “Okay. I can do that.”

They were quiet for a bit, and Patrick started to doze off until David spoke, his voice sleepy and soft.

“Before you woke up, I watched the dawn arrive. Or tried to, at least. It’s hard here in the city… too many lights. I was thinking about how much I missed it—being able to see all those colors. I never thought miss something like that.”

He stopped talking for long enough that Patrick glanced up at him. David’s eyes were closed and his face was peaceful. He’d finally fallen asleep.

Patrick stayed curled up next to him while his thoughts whirled. They had two days together before they had to work again, and he had an idea on how to spend them.


	30. Best Day Ever

David slowly woke up to the sound of someone moving around the apartment and the couch empty next to him. Patrick must have gotten up during David’s nap.

He stretched and slowly sat up, grabbing his glasses off the coffee table and trying to focus on the room around him. Patrick was in the kitchen, boxing up what looked like a picnic basket.

“What are you doing?”

Patrick glanced up and grinned. “Good morning, David. Did you sleep well?”

“Um, I think so? What time is it?”

“A little after 9. You managed to get a few hours of sleep.”

David stretched again and stood, walking over to Patrick. “Question still stands—what are you doing?”

“I’m packing us some food so you don’t starve to death while we’re out.”

“While we’re out? We’re going out? Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you on a little trip.” Patrick sounded pleased, glancing up at David expectantly.

“A _trip_? Where are we going? Does this involve a long subway ride? I don’t like the subway that much. Too many people—too many germs—small confined space.” David started to sweat. He wasn’t prepared for Patrick to see all his neuroses _quite_ yet.

“David, I have a car.” Patrick sounded so amused.

“Oh.” _Thank GOD_. “Oh, that’s right. Where are you taking me?”

“That’s a surprise.” Patrick grinned and leaned up to kiss him, short and sweet. “Go take a shower and pack an overnight bag. Bring your sketchbook.”

“An _overnight_ bag? Patrick. I’ve told you I don’t like surprises!”

“Mmhmm, I know, and I reserve the right to try and change your mind. Just run with this, David.”

David growled, but started to rummage through the basket. “You’ve packed an acceptable amount of cheese, at least.”

“Yes, well, I’m learning.”

Warmth started to flow through David’s veins. This was so sweet. Patrick was so _sweet_. He caught Patrick’s hips with his hands and pulled him close. “Sure you don’t want to come take a shower with me?”

Patrick’s eyes flared. “Um, that is a _very_ tempting offer, David, but we really do need to get on the road sooner than later.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can make it quick for you, honey.”

“Oh _, can_ you? Are we taking bets?”

“Are you really trying to challenge me right now, Patrick? I’ll have you know I’m very competitive.”

Patrick grinned. “Um, please. I played baseball for my entire school tenure, David. I think I’ve got competitive on lock-down.”

“Oh, so we _are_ taking bets, then?”

“Get in the shower, David.”

David pouted. “Well, you’re no fun.”

Patrick yanked his hips forward and ground against him. _Oh_. Clearly he was _really_ into competition. “I didn’t say I wasn’t joining you, David. Go get in the shower. I’m right behind you.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

Patrick snorted and turned David, pointing him to the hallway. “Go get in the shower, David.”

David sashayed out of the room, listening to Patrick chuckle behind him. It was a heady feeling.

Getting undressed, he turned on the water and stepped into the warm spray. It felt good on his muscles, which were screaming from all the time he’d spent sleeping on the couch lately. He stepped fully into the water, letting it run over his head, lost in the moment.

Then he felt Patrick’s hands on his ass, pulling him close.

“Oh!” he gasped, opening his eyes.

Patrick was right there, naked and gorgeous, pressed against him.

“I’ve set the timer, David. I really think we should get started.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Patrick laughed and kissed David’s neck, slow and sloppy. “You really want to lose, don’t you?”

“ _Not_ happening.”

“So, prove it. The timer is for five minutes. Think we can make each other come that quickly?”

David flushed hot and dropped to his knees. “Oh, honey, I’ll take you apart in three.”

David won with thirty seconds to spare.

***

Patrick promised the car ride would only take about an hour or so, which seemed acceptable to David. He was still pretty sleepy, so the sunlight outside, the gentle movement of the car, and Patrick’s humming along to sappy songs on the radio made it really hard for David to keep his eyes open. Maybe if he closed them… just for a minute.

When he opened them again, they were pulling into what looked like a large, open space, a long path stretching out ahead of them through lush, green fields.

“Where are we?” David’s voice came out raspy. He was still really sleepy.

“I saw this place on the way down to the city, and didn’t get a chance to stop. It looked interesting at the time, and getting to see it with you makes it even better.”

They pulled up and parked, and Patrick yanked David out of the car, turning him and pointing his shoulders toward the field in front of them. “Look, David.”

David focused on the scene before them and sucked in a delighted breath. “Oh!”

Massive modern sculptures dotted the green fields, as far as he could see—mixed in with trees and ponds and beautiful, picturesque countryside.

“Is this some sort of sculpture park? You brought me to an open-air art installation?” He turned and stared at Patrick, trying to somehow keep his face from giving away the absolute _delight_ he felt about this turn of events.

It didn’t work.

Patrick beamed up at him. “So, what you’re saying is that you actually like _this_ surprise?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Patrick.”

Patrick chuckled and stepped forward, pressing his body to David’s and kissing him soft and slow before pulling back and smiling sweetly at him. “Are you ready to go explore?”

“ _So_ ready.”

***

David lay on a blanket, his head propped on Patrick’s muscular thigh, staring up at the blue sky. Periodically, Patrick popped of piece of cheese in his mouth, and David would chew it, hum happily, and continue relaxing.

They’d hiked for what felt like hours, exploring the various sculptures, occasionally stopping so David could do a quick sketch of the ones he particularly liked. It was peaceful and creatively stimulating, and David’s artistic instinct was getting more of a workout than it had in ages.

In other words, it was one of the best afternoons he’d had in really long time.

However, the sun was close to setting, and it started to get chilly out. David groaned and sat up. “We probably should head back now. I’m not a huge fan of being in cars after dark.”

Patrick chuckled and leaned over, running his thumb down David’s cheek. “Silly David. Why do you think I had you pack on overnight bag?”

David blinked, the soft contact on his skin making it hard to concentrate on Patrick’s words. “Oh. Wait. We’re staying in a hotel tonight?”

“Something like that.” Patrick’s tone was far, far too amused. That didn’t bode well.

“B&B?” David pressed, starting to worry.

“Mmm. Let’s go back to the car, David.”

“Patrick—” David whined.

Patrick stood and pulled David up to standing. “Come on, beautiful. Just let this play out. You’re so impatient. Just let me accomplish my _vision_ for our trip.”

“Your _vision_? Why does this terrify me, Patrick?” David asked, trying not to laugh.

Patrick just grinned and grabbed David’s hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulled him down the path toward the car.

Once they were on the road, it only took about ten minutes to get to their destination. David stared out the windshield with a mixture of horror and frantic, hysterical laughter bubbling under his skin.

“Oh my _God_ ,” he cried. “We’re staying at a roadside motel?”


	31. Roadside Motel

Patrick did his very best not to laugh at David’s expression. His face was doing that scrunchy, horrified thing it did when he wanted to escape the situation immediately, but his eyes were alight with something that looked suspiciously like glee.

“You don’t think I’ve had enough of roadside motels, Patrick?” David’s tone indicated he was trying his very best not to erupt with laughter, and Patrick’s body felt effervescent.

He’d clearly done well.

Patrick giggled. “I’m not making you _live_ here, David. It’s just one night. Call it a big ol’ helping of David Rose nostalgia served up on a possibly roach-infested platter.”

“We’re going to be murdered. Mark my words. At least it was a _lovely_ day leading up to our grisly demise, so thank you for that.”

“Mmm, that sounds optimistic.”

David opened the door and hopped out of the car, spinning around to take in their surroundings. “We can never tell my dad about this. He’ll wind up wanting to buy this place. This is _exactly_ his style.”

Patrick’s insides warmed a little and he walked around the car to wrap his arms around David from behind, murmuring in his ear. “So, did I get it right?”

“I’m not sure I want to encourage this behavior,” David said, melting back into Patrick’s body.

“David,” he whispered, kissing the dark hair curled behind David’s ear. “Did I get today right?”

“Today has been hand’s down the most amazing day I can remember, Patrick,” David answered, his voice soft. He squeezed Patrick’s forearm and added, “It’s just too bad we have to die soon.”

Patrick chuckled. “Stay here and watch our stuff. I’ll go get us checked in.”

David nodded, still taking in their surroundings. “If I go missing before you get back, it was probably a serial killing, long-haul trucker.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, David.”

Patrick checked in as fast as he could, grabbing the room key from a dour looking front-desk person before jogging back to David. “You ready to do this?”

David laughed. “Absolutely not, but lead the way.”

Patrick grabbed the bags and pulled David to a door near the car, unlocking it and pushing David inside—crowing his body behind him. He didn’t want to stop touching him. 

The room was dark, decked out in a seventies décor that probably offended every one of David’s fashionable sensibilities. At least the bed was a decent size, even if it looked wildly uncomfortable.

“Honey, we’re home,” he joked.

David snorted. “I hate you.”

Patrick grinned and tossed his bag on the side of the bed nearest the door, setting David’s on the table nearest the bathroom.

David watched him. “Choosing a side, are you?”

Patrick shrugged. “Nearest the door. If we’re going to be murdered, I should probably give you a fighting chance to escape while I bleed out.”

David’s eyes widened, going a little wild.

“I’m kidding, David.”

“No, I know. Just—a memory.” He waved his hand. “You just made me remember something.”

“Bleeding out in a seedy motel?”

“Something like that.” David smiled. “Come here.”

Patrick went to him immediately, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I hope you had a good day.”

“I did. Honestly, Patrick—one of the best I can remember. I’m not just saying that. This has been—you’ve been—well, this is something else.” David’s arms went around Patrick’s shoulders and he leaned down to capture his lips.

Patrick hummed into the kiss, deepening it, their tongues clashing as he fisted his hands in David’s thick hair.

David made a little mewling noise that set fire to Patrick’s blood and he pushed David toward the bed. “Bed. I have no idea if it’s comfortable, and I apologize in advance, but I need you in the bed.”

David nodded, continuing to kiss him. “Yep. Okay. Bed.”

Patrick let out a little laugh. He’d reduced David to only using one syllable words. That had to be a good thing.

They tumbled onto the covers, both letting out little bursts of air. The mattress was… not soft.

“Yeah, I apologize,” Patrick mumbled.

David laughed and kissed him. “It’s the thought that counts, honey. Stay here, don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and ran to his bag, rummaging around in the front pocket.

“What are you doing? Come back to bed, David.”

“Oh, I am. It’s just, I had really high hopes for this little trip, so I came prepared. A-ha!” He spun around, holding something in his hand. “Here it is!”

Patrick sat up and squinted, trying to make out what David held, and when he did, all the air left his lungs and his dick perked up.

“You brought lube, David?” His voice came out slightly more strangled than he wanted it to.

“Well, like I said, I had really high hopes for tonight.” David came back to the bed and sat down next to Patrick, leaning over to set the bottle down on the nightstand.

When he started to right himself back to sitting, Patrick grabbed his shoulders and pushed him backward on the bed, straddling his hips and looming over him.

“Well, hello,” David said, laughing—his voice slightly breathless.

“Hello, yourself.” Patrick leaned down and kissed him, soft and slow, leaning toward slightly filthy at the end.

When he sat back up again, David’s eyes were dark and hips lips swollen. “Someone’s frisky.”

Patrick smiled. “Someone brought surprise lube, so yeah. Are we doing the thigh thing again? If so, I’m definitely okay with that.”

“Um,” David said, flushing slightly pink and looking away. “Actually, I had something different in mind.”

Well, _that_ look sent a jolt through Patrick.

“Different, how exactly? Be specific, David.”

David glanced back, meeting his eyes, his gaze dark and intent. “Patrick, I’d really, really like it if you’d fuck me.

***

Patrick was going to die.

This was the best feeling in the world, fully buried inside David while watching him arch his back and moan underneath him like some kind of goddamn fallen angel. David was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen, _or_ felt, and he was going to die. This was so much better than sex had ever been for him—in fact, it was on a whole different stratosphere than any of the sex he’d ever had before.

The combination of the feel of David, so fucking tight around him, gripping, somehow pulling—on top of the actual, overwhelming and very real sexual attraction he felt to the person he was currently fucking—Patrick was pretty sure his head was going to explode.

Other parts of him too.

_Shit._

He stopped moving and braced himself on his forearms, resting his forehead against David’s, breathing hard.

“Why’d you stop?” David’s voice was high, breathless, and when he opened his eyes and looked at Patrick, his pupils were completely blown out. “God, please don’t stop.”

Patrick groaned. “I have to. I’m about two seconds from losing it, David. I need to calm down for a second.”

“I don’t want you to calm down,” David whined. “I want you to keep fucking doing that.” He shifted his hips, pushing Patrick in deeper.

“Fuck, David. Stop. I can’t— _God_. I’m not going to last if you keep doing that. Want to make this good for you.”

“It _is_ good for me. So fucking good. I’m so close. Just keep going, please?”

It was the whiny little “please” that got to Patrick, and he couldn’t stop from himself from letting out a curse and slamming back into David.

David let out a breathy scream, and then Patrick was done for. He had what he could only assume was an out of body experience, crashing into David, pulling back, surging forward, listening to David’s whimpers and cries, and then it was all too much, and everything drew in on itself and went white, exploding out behind his eyelids as he emptied himself in David.

He dimly heard David cry out—felt something wet and warm hit his chest, and then he couldn’t feel his body anymore. He collapsed, breathing heavy, laying on top of David’s heaving chest.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, when he finally could form words again. “What the fuck was _that_?”

David let out a little giggle. “Um, that was incredible. That’s what that was.”

Patrick tried to move his head to look down at him, but he couldn’t make his muscles work.

“Shit. I think I died. I think I’m a ghost talking to you right now. I’m pretty sure you just annihilated my body and I’m dead.”

“Well, at least the serial killer didn’t murder us first.”

“Mmhmm, there’s that.” Patrick finally made his arms cooperate and pushed himself off David, rolling to his side.

David whined and followed, tucking himself into Patrick’s chest. “You didn’t have to move. I liked that.”

“I was crushing you.”

“For the record, I’m totally okay with that.”

“Noted.” He shook his head and dragged his hand across his face. “David. That was—that was— _thank_ you.”

“Um, pretty sure _I’m_ the one who should be thanking you. Pretty sure that’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I know for a fact it was the best sex _I’ve_ ever had,” Patrick said, honestly. “It’s never been like that, before. Not even close. I know I keep saying that, but you keep blowing my mind, David Rose.”

David hummed happily and placed a lazy kiss on Patrick’s stomach. “I aim to please.”

Patrick chuckled and drew him closer, but David whined again. “We need to get cleaned up. We can’t sleep like this.”

“Why not? It’s not our bed, right?”

David went still for a second, clearly considering that, but then shook his head. “Nope, no. As tempting as that sounds, _you_ are not the one who will regret this about two hours from now. You’re as hairless as a newborn chihuahua.”

Patrick snorted. “Okay, okay. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

He let himself be led into the bathroom, where not only did David thoroughly clean him up, he also re-demonstrated just how much he enjoyed the events of the day.

Patrick was pretty sure he died again


	32. This is Real

David woke up to Patrick gently shaking his shoulder. The room was dark and David squinted, confused. “Are we being murdered?”

Patrick laughed. “Not yet. Get up, sweetie.”

“Patrick, it’s _daaark_. Why would I want to get up?”

“I have a surprise for you. Wakey, wakey, David.”

“ _Another_ surprise? Patrick, you’re out of control. A fucking menace.” David burrowed his head into the pillow. “Go’way.”

Patrick chuckled and kissed the back of David’s neck. “Put on some clothes, David. I want to show you something.”

David grumbled, but rolled out of bed, throwing on a sweater and pajama bottoms. By the time he turned around, Patrick was already in a tee shirt and boxers and had grabbed a blanket off the bed.

“Come outside.”

“We’re going outside at,” David looked at his phone, “Five in the morning? What’s wrong with you, Patrick? Do you have a fever?”

“Just come outside with me, David.” Patrick went to the door and held out his hand. “Follow me.”

David sighed, but complied, grabbing Patrick’s hand as he let himself be led to the back of the car. Let’s be honest, at this point, he’d follow Patrick anywhere.

Patrick sat on the trunk and pulled David forward until he was standing between his knees. Then he spun him around and drew David against his chest. Covering them both with the blanket, Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist and kissed his shoulder as they faced the large field in front of the hotel.

“Now, watch.” Patrick’s voice was low in his ear, soft and sweet.

It took David a minute to realize what was happening, and when he did, he began to cry, all the air leaving his lungs in a giant woosh.

The sky around them started to fill with a soft, pink light—the very best color—and birds started to chirp, signaling the morning. It was gorgeous, perfect… peaceful. It was what he’d been missing.

Patrick had woken him up before dawn and brought him outside so David could watch color and sunlight fill the sky, far away from the harsh, manufactured lights of the city.

_Oh my God._

Patrick’s voice was so quiet, so fond, breathing right at his ear. “You said you missed this. I know I’ll never be able to compete with your family, but I still wanted to give you this.”

David wiped away the wetness tracking down his cheeks.

“I— _God_. Patrick—thank you. Thank you so much.”

Patrick squeezed him tight. “You’re welcome, Sunshine.”

***

The drive back to the city was quiet. Patrick seemed to sense that David was deep in his head, so he didn’t try to keep conversation going. Every once in a while, he reached over and grabbed David’s hand—either squeezing it or bringing it up to his lips for a little kiss—and it took everything within David to not start crying again.

It was so overwhelming. This was all so overwhelming. It was perfect, and wonderful, and guys like Patrick did _not_ exist—not in David’s world—and yet, here he was, driving David back to the city after giving him the best 24-hours of his whole fucking life.

How was any of this happening?

David sucked in a shaky breath.

Patrick glanced over, concern pouring out of those soft, brown eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”

David nodded, biting his lip. He wanted to talk. He had things he needed to know—needed to say—he just didn’t know how to start.

“Patrick—I— _God_ —I just—is this—is this….” Words were failing him, dammit.

“Is this _what_ , David?” Patrick sounded so worried.

David sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead, his words finally blasting out of him like a freaking foghorn. He couldn’t stop them. He started vomiting words like he’d been on a four-day bender, and really—he basically pretty much _had_. Only, apparently his drug of choice was now Patrick’s earnest brown eyes.

“Is this real? I mean, are we a—a _thing_? Like a _real_ thing? I realize it’s not even been a week, but it feels a lot longer, doesn’t it? This feels like _forever_ to me, already, and that’s scary, and wonderful, but still really fucking terrifying, and oh God, I’m making a mess of this.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I really like you, Patrick. I just _really_ like you. That’s all. If you want this to be more than a casual thing, I’m okay with that. Actually, I—I guess I really _want_ that. But, if you don’t, that’s okay, too. I’d understand.” He blew out another shaky breath. “ _Fuck_. Sorry. _I’m_ the menace.”

The car started to slow, and Patrick pulled off to the side of the road, shutting off the engine.

David glanced over in surprise, staring at Patrick’s hands, gripped tight on the steering wheel. His knuckles were very white.

David’s stomach plummeted. He’d misjudged. _Fuck_. He’d misjudged and made the biggest mistake ever. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut and just enjoyed whatever this was while he had it?

Then, suddenly, Patrick’s hands were framing his face, pulling him forward, and then they were kissing, and it felt so frantic, so full of— _something_ —and David never wanted it to end. It was perfect, it was frenzied, it was _everything_ —but then Patrick pulled back, breathing hard.

“God, David,” he gasped. “What did you _think_ was happening here? Why do you think I’m doing any of this?”

David lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Because you wanted to be sweet?”

“Well, yeah. _Why_ do you think I’m being sweet, though?”

“You like the sex?”

Patrick laughed, the sound short, harsh. “Uh, that goes without saying, but that’s not the reason, David.”

“Then, what’s the reason?” David’s voice came out very small, but he felt like they were on the edge of something really big. It could either go very badly or be the best moment in his life.

He was terrified.

He was _so_ fucking hopeful.

“David. This is real. You and me. Since the moment I laid eyes on you. That first night when I was so lost, suddenly you were there and I wasn’t lost anymore. You _found_ me, David. I didn’t know, until you, I didn’t know what right was supposed to feel like. And then I met you, and—this is right. This is real. You’re the realist thing I know, okay? And just to be perfectly clear, I want what you want. I want this to be more than some casual thing.”

“Are you sure?” David asked, his voice squishy from tears because he was basically hyperventilating. God, he probably looked awful.

Patrick stared at him, his heart in his eyes. He looked so, so certain.

“Easiest decision of my life.”


	33. Time Goes By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, time jump! I need to move this story ahead in time. 50k words devoted to 4 days seems excessive, and these boys need to get on with their lives together.

Patrick stared around the club and sighed. The slightly overwhelmed feeling he occasionally got rose, then ebbed, overtaken by a sense of wonder. It had been three months of this new life and he still was getting used to it.

Three months in New York.

Three months co-owning the club.

Three months of being with David, complete with all the bliss and all the sporadic annoyances that came with being in a really healthy relationship. He never thought he’d ever be in one of those, but it was just because he hadn’t been looking in the right places for most of his life. Hell, he hadn’t even known what places he should be looking.

He’d gotten so lucky to have met David three months ago. So fucking lucky.

_Shit._

_Three months._

He glanced down at his phone.

_Shit shit shit._

It had been _exactly_ three months and he didn’t have a surprise lined up.

It had become a running joke, surprising David on their “anniversaries.” David pretended to be annoyed, something about them being harbingers of doom, but Patrick knew he secretly loved them.

At first, he’d done it weekly—little things, trinkets, food, whatever. Then, once they reached the month mark, he went slightly bigger—surprising David with another trip out of town to go to a gallery showing of an artist he really liked. At two months, he’d surprised David with the grant money that finally came through—the check all wrapped up in a box he placed next to him on the pillow, so David would find it when he woke up.

Now it was exactly three months since they met, and they’d been so busy updating the club, adding features, scheduling events—Patrick completely lost track of time. He had nothing to give David when they closed up and were finally alone.

 _Fuck_.

He glanced around, panicked. Was there a way he could escape for a minute and go find something at a store? Maybe some jewelry?

Except, where the hell was he going to find David Rose approved jewelry at eleven o’clock at night?

He was so deep in his head, trying to come up with something to fix the situation, that he didn’t realize when David left the crowd of people he’d been talking to and made his way behind the bar.

“Hey, handsome,” David whispered against his ear, wrapping his arms around his waist. “What do you look so distressed about?”

David’s warm breath made goosebumps break out over every inch of Patrick’s skin. _God_. “Oh, um, I was just trying to remember if we ordered more cases of the Glenfiddich.”

“Mmhmm, we did last week. It should be here tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay, good.” He turned around and wrapped his arms around David’s hips, pulling him closer. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. I haven’t seen much of you tonight.”

“I know. I’m so glad we have a couple days to ourselves after this. Can we please just take a day for ourselves? No club stuff, no renovations, no errands—just you and me and your bed.”

“Mmm, I like that sound of that. But, can we also include pizza?”

“Yes, David,” Patrick said, laughing. He gave him a light kiss and pulled back, reaching up to smooth back an errant curl that had fallen onto David’s forehead. “We can add pizza.”

David grinned and looked around. “I’m feeling pretty good about all the changes we’re making. I really think we’ve added some equity to this place.”

“Equity? Why are you thinking about equity?”

David’s eyes flashed for a second and he worried his lip with his teeth. “Um, just an idea I’ve been kicking around. We can talk about it later.”

Patrick squeezed David’s waist and dropped a kiss to his neck. “Okay. We’ll talk later, but I think there might be an altercation starting by the bathroom.” He gently rotated David’s body until he faced the hall.

“Oh, dear _God_ ,” David breathed. “Can’t I just get one fucking night…?”

Huffing, he stormed off toward the gathering crowd.

Patrick watched him walk away—all gorgeous, incensed determination, and an idea began forming in his brain. His three-month anniversary gift might be the best one yet.

***

“Happy Anniversary, baby,” Patrick purred.

David stopped short in the bathroom doorway, his hand paused on his cheek where he was finishing applying moisturizer.

“What’s all this?” his tone was amused, uncertain.

“It’s been three months, David.”

“No, I know that. I was hoping you’d forgotten. You keep flirting with disaster, Patrick.”

“What could be disastrous about us, baby?”

“Well, nothing yet, but you keep trying.” David glanced around. “Seriously, what’s all this?”

Patrick had lit multiple candles, put on soft music, and turned down the lights.

“I’m setting a mood.”

“I _see_ that. I feel like you might have something planned. Something romantic, perhaps?” David teased. He crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Patrick. “Look at you in your little bow-tie. It’s very sexy.”

“Well, I’d hope so, considering that’s all I’m wearing.”

“No, I noticed that too.” David gave his body a once-over, his eyes so, so dark, and Patrick felt the perusal in his knees.

“Uh, I wanted to give you something special.”

“You do that every day, honey.”

“No. I mean— _special_. Like something we haven’t tried before.”

David sat back, resting on his weight on his palms. “Go on… I’m listening.”

Patrick felt himself flush and he looked away from David’s direct gaze. When he glanced back, David was staring at him, a giant, delighted smile overtaking his face.

“Honey, your whole body is blushing. What’s going on?”

Patrick looked away again. This was more difficult to say than he’d thought it would be. He felt a little like he was going to hyperventilate.

“Um. Well. I thought, maybe you could….” He took a deep breath. “Maybe _you_ could fuck _me_?”

David was silent so long that Patrick forced himself to glance back at him. He hadn’t moved, but was staring at Patrick with an odd expression.

“David? You don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Oh, I _want_ ,” David interrupted. “So fucking much, you have no idea. I was just picturing the scenario for a second. Sorry.” He shook his head. “But, honey, you don’t have to. It’s okay. I love our sex life. I love what you do to me. It’s good for me, I promise. It’s _enough_. Not everyone likes—what you’re suggesting—and it’s not something you have to do just because you think it’s like some kind of basic tenet of gay sex, or something.”

Patrick leaned forward and caught David’s chin with his hand, kissing him softly. “I know it’s not. I know I don’t have to, and you’d never expect me to do anything I wasn’t ready or willing to do. But, trust me when I say that I am ready… and _very_ willing… and I’d like it very, very much if you’d please fuck me now, David.”

David’s eyes flashed. “Well, when you ask so nicely….” He leaned forward and pushed Patrick back on the bed. “You just stay there for a second.”

“Not going anywhere,” Patrick agreed, rolling slightly over to watch David. He’d never actually seen him undress so quickly before, yanking at his sweater and drawstring pants with jerky movements.

“Why, David Rose. Are your hands shaking?” Patrick teased.

David glared up, scowling. “Don’t be mean. You just surprised me. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

Patrick frowned. “Well, that was kind-of the idea? But you don’t have to do this, David. I guess I didn’t really think about whether you’d want to be the one—well, it just felt so good, being in you—I just thought maybe you’d want—do you even _like_ that? I didn’t think to ask.”

David dove back onto the bed and kissed him, all naked, effortless grace. He pulled back and nodded. “Of course I like that. Why would you even ask?”

“It’s just, I’m new to all this, and you _did_ say that some people aren’t really into, uh switching, and I don’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable—”

David waved his hand dismissively. “Patrick, I’m versatile. I have zero issues doing whatever you want. Please keep throwing ideas at me. I love when you get adventurous.”

“Then why’d you hesitate, before?”

David sighed and laid back. “Okay. It’s just—this is kind-of new for me, too. All of this. The care and concern and thought you put into things. Into making me feel good, or making sure I want something. The fact that you _ask_ me for things. Historically—” he sighed. “Historically, that’s not always been the case.

Patrick frowned, sitting up to stare down at David, incredulous thoughts forming in his brain. “David. Are you saying that people in your past have just—taken—and not cared whether or not you’ve wanted?”

David flushed. “When you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

“David! It _is_ bad. What the fuck?”

David shook his head. “No, you’re not understanding. It’s not like I was weeping in a corner, or anything. I _wanted_ stuff to happen. It’s just I never really had anyone who cared enough to ask what _I’d_ be into at the time. Usually, my sex life consisted of being available for whatever the other person needed to get them off.” He shrugged. “You’re not like that. It’s nice. It’s really fucking nice. I didn’t think I’d be so into mutual consent, but here we are….”

Patrick stared at him, feeling shell-shocked and sad. This beautiful, sweet man had been treated so fucking badly in the past, and Patrick didn’t understand why. Why had no one else understood the treasure they had when they had it?

“David, _historically_ , people in your life really fucking sucked.”

David nodded, his expression somehow both amused and sad. “Mmhmm. I agree.”

Patrick shook his head, reaching over to cup David’s cheek. “We can do whatever you want tonight, okay? I just threw out that suggestion because I wanted to do something special for us for our anniversary. Something new. But, I take it back.” He leaned down and kissed him quick. “Dealer’s choice, okay? I’ll do whatever _you_ want tonight, David. You deserve to choose whatever makes _you_ feel good.”

David stared at him, his eyes wide and dark, full of wonder. “Jesus. Patrick. Where’d you come from?”

“Southern Canada.”

David snorted and pushed Patrick onto his back, moving to straddle him. He braced himself over Patrick, palms flat on both sides of his head, and grinned down at him. It was a very dangerous smile.

Patrick felt all the air leave his lungs.

“Oh honey, I’m going to _really_ enjoy tonight.”

That was all Patrick wanted.

Happy anniversary, indeed.

***

Patrick opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the window, casting the room in a soft, golden glow. He turned his head, drinking David in as he slept peacefully next to him, his eyelashes long and dark on his cheeks—his breathing slow and calm.

Patrick loved watching David while he was still like this. It happened so rarely, and the brief moments of morning before David sensed Patrick’s waking and opened his eyes were some of the best in Patrick’s recent memory—in his whole life, really.

He carefully rolled over on his side to gaze at David more comfortably. His dark hair was a disaster, sticking out in thick, black spikes—leftover damage from Patrick’s hands while his world was being blown last night. The skin on his neck was slightly reddened—probably whisker burn and leftover teeth marks from Patrick’s enthusiasm the night before, as well.

Patrick smiled and reached over to rub his thumb against the dark stubble of David’s jaw. David’s eyes fluttered open, fuzzy and far-away, before sharpening and meeting Patrick’s gaze. He smiled lazily, and Patrick’s heart lurched in his chest. One thump. Hard.

_Oh. Oh, wow._

“Good morning,” David whispered, his voice still raspy from sleep.

Patrick smiled and cupped his cheek more fully. “Good morning, sunshine.”

David smiled and scooted closer to Patrick, looping his arm over Patrick’s waist and closing his eyes again. “Jus’wanna lay here a minute,” he murmured.

Patrick sucked in a breath, his heart so full it was near bursting with a sudden, effervescent burst of brightness.

“David,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against the scratchy skin at David’s jaw.

“Shhh,” David answered, a soft smirk at his lips.

“Da-aavid,” Patrick repeated, lightly running a finger down David’s neck, watching his skin break out in goosebumps.

David’s eyes opened briefly, then fluttered closed. “Shh, sleep. But keep doing that. Feels good,” he whispered.

“Sweetheart, wake up,” Patrick purred.

David’s eyes fluttered open again. He tried to look stern, but the soft smile he shot Patrick made that impossible. Patrick smiled in return and cupped his cheek again.

“David,” he repeated, his voice low.

“Thas’my name,” David agreed, his eyes starting to drift closed again.

Patrick couldn’t let the moment pass. It was too huge, too bright behind his skin.

“David,” he said again, one more time. “I love you.”


	34. You're my Mariah

David had never woken up so fast in his entire life—not even that one time Prince William had tried to give him an early morning, sloppy hand-job while they were both still half-drunk.

“W-what?”

Patrick just watched him, his expression so open and fond. “I love you, David,” he repeated.

David blinked, his heart thumping hard in his chest, his entire body tingling with some sort of precursor to a complete freak out. That had to be what it was, right? It had to be a panic attack, though it didn’t feel like one normally did. This felt… happier? Could you have a happy anxiety attack?

“O-okay. It’s just—you know that I’ve never said that to anyone before, right? Just to my parents—twice—and one time—”

“And one time at a Mariah Carey concert, I know.” Patrick leaned forward and kissed him again. “And I’m not expecting you to say it back, David. You can say it when you’re ready. It just felt right to me in the moment.”

David nearly lost it. Okay, this wasn’t a panic attack. This was much, much bigger than a panic attack. He simultaneously wanted to pounce on Patrick and roll off the bed to hide underneath it, not coming out for days.

Then Patrick made it worse.

Or better? Maybe he made it better.

“You’re my Mariah Carey.” Patrick’s voice was so soft, so earnest.

David couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” he whispered.

Patrick smiled, running his thumb under David’s eye, wiping away a tear. “I know.”

Okay, David was definitely not rolling off the bed now. He launched himself at Patrick and wrapped his arms and legs around him, trying to pull him closer.

He couldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t he stop shaking?

“Baby, why are you shaking?” Patrick asked, sounding concerned.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” David whispered.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Patrick hugged him tight. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

David focused on breathing, trying to sort out his chaotic thoughts. “Just let me process this for a second. Don’t freak out. I just need to process.”

“I’m not freaking out. I think that’s _you_.” Patrick’s tone was amused.

“Shut up,” David shot back, trying not to smile. He was panicking, dammit! Why was Patrick making him smile during a proper panic? “This is really fucking big, Patrick.”

“I know.” Patrick kissed the top of his head. “It’s been big for me for a while.”

“Yeah, it has for me, too,” David admitted.

Patrick squeezed him tighter. David could hear his heartbeat, strong and sure, against his cheek. “You mean so much to me, David.”

David nodded. “Same. Still processing. Give me a minute.”

Patrick chuckled. “Okay, take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

_He’s not going anywhere._

_He’s really not going anywhere._

David started shaking harder. This was so big. So, so big. Did Patrick have any idea _how_ big? Did he even realize what he did? What he just said?

His whole life, David expected people to leave. His parents, his sister, every friend and lover he ever had—up until the last couple years, everyone left him. He knew his parents loved him now. He knew that Alexis was finally safe and stable and would always be there for him. He knew Stevie would always be his best friend.

But, love? Romantic love? Relationship-type love? Everyone left David. Always.

David was too hard to love. No one ever loved him. Everyone left him.

Until Patrick.

Patrick _loved_ him.

Patrick wasn’t going anywhere.

Patrick wasn’t going to leave him.

_OhmygodOhmygodOhmyGOD_

He pulled back, grabbed Patrick’s face with both his hands, and kissed him harder than he’d ever kissed anyone, ever. He needed him to know. He needed him to understand, even if he couldn’t say it.

Wait. Why _couldn’t_ he just say it? He felt it. He may as well just say it. Patrick had said it.

“Iloveyou,” he muttered against Patrick’s lips.

Patrick stilled. “I’m sorry, what?”

David hadn’t died from saying it, which up until this point, he’d expected to happen. He tried again, a little more forceful. “I love you.”

Patrick pulled back and stared at David, his expression fucking _radiant_. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at David and smiled that big, earnest, smile. David’s very _favorite_ smile.

Something broke open inside David and his crushed their lips together again, chanting, “I love you, I love you, I love you” as they kissed, tears running down his cheeks.

It was messy, and he’d have to change the pillowcases, but _God_ … he’d never been happier.

***

David lay there, his chest heaving, his body still buzzing from the workout he’d just gotten. Reaching out, he weakly ran his hand down Patrick’s stomach—or at least tried to. His arm didn’t want to work yet.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his voice barely working.

“Agreed,” answered Patrick. He sounded just as winded.

“Explain to me again why you waited so long to let me do that? Because you’re a fucking natural.”

Patrick giggled, the sound barely a wheeze. “Well, I’ve had a great teacher.”

“The student has surpassed the master on this one, trust me.”

“Hmm, I beg to differ. I’ve been in your position plenty of times over the past few months, and you have nothing to worry about. Your technique is top-notch. Five-Star.”

David laughed. “Well, I’m used to quality.”

“Clearly.”

David forced himself to roll over to face Patrick, who still lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, a blissed-thoroughly-fucked-out expression on his face. He turned his head and met David’s gaze, grinning weakly.

“So, it’s safe to say that’s staying in our repertoire?”

“Um, yeah. Safe to say,” Patrick answered, smiling.

“Good.”

Patrick watched him for a minute and then turned his head to stare back up at the ceiling. “So, off topic….”

“Uh oh,” David answered, trying not to appear too anxious about the change in conversation. “Is this where you tell me you don’t love me anymore? Was it that thing with my thumb?”

“Ha. Ha.” Patrick made a groaning noise and flopped over on his side, facing David. It was not graceful. Apparently his muscles weren’t working so great yet, either. “I think I’m getting a handle on the club. On running it, I mean. I may not have your pizazz with working the crowd, but I can handle disputes, and I definitely know how to handle the business side of it—keeping things running, booking things, etcetera. What do you think?”

“I think you’re doing great, honey. I know it’s not an easy learning curve, and I’m super impressed with how you’ve handled it. You’ve helped so much.”

“Good, good.” Patrick smiled and reached over to run his fingers through David’s hair. “I think you should take a week off.”

David reared back, horrified. “A week off?! Why would I want to do that?”

“Well, for one, you need to trust that I can handle it without you here, since we’re equal partners at this point. And two, I want you to go visit your family.”

David froze. “W-what?”

“You need to go visit your family, David. It’s been long enough. It’s been, what? Close to two years since you’ve seen them?”

David nodded. “They haven’t had a chance to come down here. They’ve been… busy. So have I.”

Patrick watched him with those soft, brown eyes. David felt like he was being dissected. “Go visit them, David. You miss them. Let me do this for you. Besides, it will only be a week. I can’t possibly mess things up too badly in such a short a period of time.”

“Umm, I’ll consider your offer. I wouldn’t be able to even _think_ about leaving until after the big solstice party, though. You know I’m the only one out of us who can execute catering correctly.”

“I know, David,” Patrick said laughing and kissing him softly. “I’m just putting it on your radar.”


	35. Four Month Surprise

For their four-month anniversary, Patrick bought David a plane ticket to Toronto.

David had put off even _starting_ to plan going back home, so Patrick knew he’d have to be the one to give him that last, gentle shove. It was for David's own good.

Thus, the plane ticket.

David stared at it, his eyes wide as he blinked back tears.

“You deserve it, David,” Patrick whispered. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll miss you,” David admitted. “Should we just shut down the club for a week? You should come with me.”

Patrick’s heart expanded. He loved the sound of that, but he shook his head. “No. This is about you. You need to go see them. Just you. I’d be a distraction and you miss your family, David. Go spend time with them.”

David nodded, staring down at the ticket. “Okay. Just,” he wrinkled his nose. “Coach?”

Patrick snorted. “I didn’t want to cut too much into our bottom line.”

David sighed. “This is what I get for dating a business major.”

Patrick grinned and leaned over, pushing David back on the couch. “So, I did good?”

David hummed, the sound happy. “You always do good, Patrick.” He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist and pulled him down on top of him.

***

“Are you sure you don’t need me to check the delivery dates on the bourbon? We can’t miss another delivery.” David bit his lip and started to walk toward the computer.

Patrick laughed. “David, we have to go. You’re going to miss your flight. Why are you stalling?”

David shook his head. “I don’t know. I want to go, I do. I just,” he bit his lip again. “I’m just feeling this deep, aching sense of dread. Maybe the plane is going to crash.”

“David, the plane is not going to crash. It’s only an hour flight. You’re fine. I’ll be fine. The club will be fine. You’re only going to be gone a week and we’ll talk every day.” He pulled David close and pressed a kiss into the crook of his neck and shoulder. It was like he carved out that spot months ago—it was his favorite spot now, always there for him to place kisses in. “We need to get you to the airport.”

David nodded. “Okay.” He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and pulled him tight, his grip almost desperate. “I love you so much.”

Patrick still felt a thrill—a jolt of happy electricity—every time he heard those words come out of David’s mouth. It still felt like a dream—this gorgeous, beautiful, deeply-flawed, yet perfect man was in love with him. How was that even possible?

Patrick squeezed back. “I love you, too, David. And I’ll miss you like crazy, but you need to go see your family. When you get back, we’ll take a couple days off to… _reconnect_ … okay?”

David nodded against his head. “I like that. That sounds nice.”

“Okay, good. Now grab your bags and let’s go.”

***

Patrick watched the plane pull out from the gate and start to head down the runway.

His world already felt smaller and less bright.

_It’s just a week, Brewer. You used to enjoy your alone time._

That was the thing, though. He _used_ to. He didn’t anymore. Hell, he disliked it so much that he barely spent any time in his own apartment. He pretty much lived at David’s, at this point. Still, even with being around David 24/7, Patrick wasn’t coming out of his skin yet. Being in David’s space felt comfortable—it felt _right_.

This upcoming week meant he’d probably have to sleep in his own bed, though. It would be weird to stay at David’s place if David wasn’t there, right? Especially since his own apartment was literally thirty feet away. He probably should clean up, restock his fridge, and move the rest of David’s old sweaters down to storage.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

**They’re making me go into airplane mode now.**

**You could have splurged for in-flight internet, Patrick.**

Patrick laughed.

**I love you, David. Have a safe flight.**

**I love you, too. I’ll text when I land.**

Patrick sighed and put his phone back in his pocket.

It was going to be a really long week.

***

By the time Patrick got back to the club, Stevie had already started opening duties.

“David get on the plane okay?” she asked, once Patrick came downstairs holding the till.

“Yeah, but he was super hesitant about it. Do you have any idea why he’d be so weird about seeing his family?”

Stevie scrunched her nose. “No. They’re actually really tight. At least I thought they were. I mean, they had adjoining bedrooms for two years and he had to share with Alexis—which, let’s be honest, would have made me commit homicide after a week. He endured it like a champ.”

Patrick laughed. “I’m looking forward to meeting them at some point. I’ve only talked to Alexis on the phone. She’s—intense.”

“Wait until you meet Mrs. Rose.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I almost feel like I forced him into something. Did I make a mistake?”

“No!” Stevie stopped stocking the bar snacks. “No. David needs this. You did a really good thing.” She started stocking peanuts again and cocked her head. “Honestly, I think he may be afraid to go back because he knows how much he actually misses it.”

“Well, of course he misses them.”

“No, not his family. The town. He misses the town, too. He doesn’t want to admit that.” She laughed. “When they first moved there, David was _impossible_. So aloof. So icy. Full-on unattainable David Rose.” She snorted again. “I thought we were kindred spirits.”

“You are,” Patrick said, smiling.

“No, I know that. But, at the time I thought it was because David was just like me and didn’t really care about anything. I thought he silently judged everyone and didn’t give a shit about what happened.”

“Well, I don’t know about silently….” Patrick said, laughing.

“Oh, I know he’s still judgy. Absolutely. But, I was wrong about the other bit. David never _not_ cared. Complete opposite. He cared _so much_ that it scared him. He tried to box it all up and not think about it, and did his best to pretend nothing ever got to him.”

“He’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know,” Patrick said softly.

Stevie watched him, her expression tender.

“You’re really good for him, Patrick. He’s happier than I’ve seen him probably ever.”

“Well, he’s good for me, too.”

Stevie nodded. “Yeah. You guys are disgusting. I’m done talking about this. Get busy on opening duties, Brewer.”

Patrick chuckled, watching as she covertly wiped the corner of her eyes, then did as he was told.

About 30 minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

**Made it! Coach is awful, just so you know.**

**I asked for a warm towel and they laughed at me.**

Patrick snorted.

**I’m sorry I didn’t pay for towel service.**

**I’ll forgive you. I’m renting a car now.**

**I’ll call when I’m settled in.**

**Sounds good. Have fun.**

**I will.**

**I love you.**

**Love you, too.**

Sighing, Patrick stuffed his phone back in his pocket and got ready for the night.


	36. Some Things Never Change

David pulled into the parking lot of the Rosebud Motel and stared at the familiar sign, his heart drawing tight in his chest. He blew out a long, shaky breath and did his very best not to cry.

It had been _so_ long.

He pulled out his phone and shot Patrick a quick text, letting him know he made it to town okay. Then he forced himself out of the car and headed into the office to check in.

Walking through the door nearly brought him to his knees. Nothing had changed. Even the giant, awful deer painting was still on the wall behind the front desk.

Images transposed on top of each other—remembering Stevie sitting behind the counter, playing solitaire—layered over whoever this was sitting there now, staring at him with concern.

Oh. Right. He should say something.

“I, um… I need to check in?”

“Hi. Okay. We can do that,” the clerk said, smiling.

David eyed her name tag. “Hi, Julie. Um, do you think I could get room seven? Is it available?”

“Yeah, it’s available. How long are you planning to stay? Can I get your name?” She started typing on the computer.

“A week. And it’s David. Um, David Rose.”

Julie’s head swiveled sharply his direction as she looked up from the screen, her eyes huge. “David Rose? As in, _Rose_? As in—oh my God, you’re _David_. Of course you are.” She pointed behind him, to the wall behind the couch.

David turned and laughed, the sound wheezing out of him. His dad had put up another family portrait—just like the ridiculous one from their old life. Only, this one was much more size appropriate. It was of the four of them, dressed as extravagantly as ever, but crowded together in a booth at the café.

“I, um, I don’t remember sitting for this,” David said, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

“There was a photograph for reference. Mr. Rose said they took it the day before you left for New York. Right after you guys sold the town.”

David nodded, thinking back. “Celebratory cheese sticks,” he said.

Julie laughed. “That sounds dangerous.”

David turned back around, grinning. “You’ve eaten at the café, then?”

“Um, yeah, what else is there to do here?”

David laughed. “Well. Dad certainly has a preference for front desk personality types.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve heard about Stevie. Supposedly I’m a lot like her. She doesn’t have much to do with the day-to-day of this place, though, so we’ve never talked.”

“No, I keep her busy at the club. She’s the lead in an off-Broadway production, too.”

David studied her. Julie was the complete opposite of Stevie in looks—blonde and tiny, actually wearing makeup—but the attitude? The attitude was definitely the same.

“You’re a lot like her, I think. We’ll get along fine.”

Julie grinned. “Oh good. I’ve heard _stories_ about you. Interested to see if they’re true. Does your family know you’re here?”

David shook his head. “No. It’s a surprise. It was a surprise for me, too. My boy—boyfriend,” David paused, still getting a thrill from saying the word. “My boyfriend got me a plane ticket as an anniversary present.”

“Oh, that’s sweet! How long have you guys been together?”

“Four months. He’s been insufferable about celebrating each month, so….”

She laughed. “Yeah, sounds really _insufferable_.” She turned and grabbed a key, handing it to David. “Here. As if I’m going to charge you for the room. Your dad would murder me.”

“Thank you.” David took the key, staring at the fob, his eyes misting over.

“Was that your room? Before?”

David nodded. “Yeah, with Alexis. Thank you,” he said again, heading toward the front door. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

“I’m sure. Hey, David?”

He glanced back at her. “Yeah?”

“Your family still meets up at the café every night for dinner. They should be there in about a half-hour.”

David grinned, wiping away a tear that slid down his cheek. “Thanks, Julie.”

Then he turned and fled the office.

***

The room was the same.

Exactly the same.

David half-wondered if his dad hadn’t wanted to renovate either room as some kind of homage to their time there, but he couldn’t look at the connecting room to be sure. The door was closed and locked—which made David really fucking sad, actually.

He threw his bag on Alexis’ old bed and sank onto his, the uncomfortable mattress horrifyingly familiar.

Wiping his eyes again, he pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick.

Patrick answered after a couple rings, the sound of music pulsing in the background.

“Hey! Hey. One sec, let me go downstairs so I can hear you.”

David listened to murmured conversation, soft shuffling, the sound of feet descending stairs, and then it was quiet—Patrick’s voice soft in his ear.

“Hi, gorgeous. How’s town? How’s your parents?”

“I haven’t seen them yet. I just checked in to the motel. I’m—I’m going to head to the café in a minute to surprise them, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. I already miss you.”

“Same here.” David glanced around, his heart both full and sad. “This room hasn’t changed one bit. It’s like I never left.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m very glad you _did_ , or we wouldn’t be speaking right now.”

“This is very true.” David flopped back against the pillow. “I’m nervous, Patrick.”

“About what?”

“Seeing my family. Being back here. Everything is the same, but it’s different, too. There’s a new front desk girl. She’s just like Stevie. Scarily so.”

Patrick chuckled. “Well, that will be fun for you. Try not to sleep with her?”

“Shut up!” David cried. “I hate you. You have to stop giving me shit about that! It was a moment of loneliness. I’ve _told_ you this.”

Patrick giggled. “I’m sorry, David. Please don’t sleep with anyone else.”

“As if I would, with _you_ waiting for me at home. Who could compare?”

“Who indeed?” Patrick’s voice was soft. “I love you, David. Go see your family, then call me later? After I’ve closed for the night? I should get back upstairs. It’s busy tonight for some reason.”

“Mmm, it’s always busy lately. A testament to your excellent business skills,” David teased, his skin humming with pleasure at the ease at which Patrick just offered up his love like that—saying it in the middle of conversation like it was nothing.

Hearing it was _everything_ to David.

Patrick made it seem like it was so easy, so natural to just _love_ David.

He still couldn’t believe it—how he’d gotten so lucky to earn that kind of love. Tears gathered in his eyes.

“Yes, I’m a modern marvel,” Patrick said, chuckling. “Stop stalling, baby. Go spend time with your family. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

David wiped his eyes. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“I love you, too. Now go.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up before he could be tempted to stay on any longer.

Patrick was right. He was stalling.

Taking a deep breath, he left the motel room, walking toward town.


	37. Unwelcome Visitor

Patrick stuffed his phone in his pocket and sat on the dusty basement couch for a second, his legs shaky.

Hearing David’s voice, so full of emotion while he vehemently declared his love for Patrick— _God_. How the fuck was he so lucky to have won that? To have won David? It still seemed like a dream he’d wake up from at any moment.

Shaking his head, he stood and slowly walked up the stairs back to the bar.

He hadn’t been lying. The place was already packed. They’d barely opened and there was still a line outside, waiting to get in. It was crazy how fast they’d grown, but it was so, so validating. Like he actually knew what he was doing. It was tangible proof that he and David were a winning combination—in business, as well as love.

Once he returned to Stevie, he started taking orders. He’d gotten really good at making drinks over the last few months—a fact that _delighted_ David… so much so that he kept introducing Patrick to patrons as his “own personal bartender.” It was cute.

“How’s David?” Stevie asked.

“Good. He’s back at the motel. He’s nervous about seeing his family.”

“Told you.”

“Yes, you’re very wise. An actual goth oracle.”

She laughed. “Shut up and help me. Tonight is insane.”

“I know! What’s going on?”

“I have no idea, but I’m running with it. I could use the tip money.”

***

The night continued on at the same pace. Patrick started to worry that maybe he bit off more than he could chew, encouraging David to take some time off. He’d already had to break up two fights, and get the bouncers to throw out about a half-dozen people for various reasons. It was completely chaotic tonight, and he really, really missed David’s effortless, icy grace around to help manage this mess.

Honestly, he was really fucking frazzled having to do any of it on his own.

Eventually, he found himself back behind the bar, helping Stevie mix drinks, which actually was somewhat calming.

A handsome man sidled up to the bar, shoving someone out of the way without making them _aware_ that he was shoving them out of the way. Patrick was both impressed and put off. Something about this guy was familiar and he made Patrick’s skin crawl for no apparent reason.

_Weird._

The guy ordered a White Russian and lazily eyed Patrick, an amused smirk on his lips. Patrick tried not to take it personally.

“So, where’s David?” the guy eventually asked.

Patrick paused. He could feel his eyes narrowing. This guy apparently knew his boyfriend on a first-name basis.

“He’s out of town. Something I can help you with?”

The guy’s eyebrows rose. “Out of town? For business or pleasure?”

“I’m sorry? And you are?” Patrick didn’t like this guy at all.

The guy held out his hand. “Sebastien. Sebastien Raine.”

Patrick froze, staring at the guy’s hand.

Oh, _hell_ no.

Sebastien laughed, dropping his hand. “I see David’s already told you about me. He’s always been so unnecessarily dramatic. Honestly, that kind of behavior is just so… so David.”

Patrick shook his head. “He only mentioned you once, months ago. It was a very short conversation and we got… distracted.” Patrick shrugged. “Sorry, your name hasn’t come up since then.”

He got a little bit of a vindictive thrill at the dark look that flashed across Sebastien’s face.

“Oh, so the little man has a bite,” Sebastien said, his eyes narrowing.

“Did you need something else?” Patrick asked, not wanting to get into it with David’s ex during one of the club’s busiest nights.

“Tell David I’m sorry I missed him.”

Patrick laughed. “Oh, I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”

Sebastien pursed his lips. “Protective, aren’t you?”

“I think that comes along with being in a relationship, so… yes.”

“A _relationship_ ,” Sebastien repeated, drawing out the word like it was the funniest thing he ever heard. “That’s new. For _David_. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t scared you away by now. We all know he’s a bit too much to handle.”

Patrick’s fury rose—quick and hot. “He’s just right, actually. I’m not going anywhere. Sorry to disappoint.”

Sebastien laughed. “ _Who_ are you again? Never caught your name.”

“No. You never did. I’m David’s business partner and _boyfriend_ —as if you didn’t already know that, but whatever. You probably should leave. I’m fairly certain David said you weren’t welcome here anymore.”

Sebastien snorted. “Suit yourself.” Tossing a twenty on the bar, he slid off the stool and headed toward the door. Patrick watched him leave and then called the bouncers, letting them know not to ever let him back in again. When he hung up, he realized he was shaking.

Stevie patted him on the back. “Nicely done. David deserves someone who sticks up for him. I’m so glad you wandered in here that night, Brewer.”

“So am I,” he whispered, shaking his head. God, David had surrounded himself with absolute _shits_. “So am I.”

***

The rest of the night went on without any hiccups, thankfully. Patrick wasn’t in the mood for any more drama.

God, he missed David so freaking much.

Not just his help with the chaos, but he also missed his steady presence around him. Just knowing he was in the same room where Patrick could find him, pull him against his body, breathe him in, and just relax.

He was going to have to survive this empty feeling of being David-less for a whole week, which did not sound fun—not at all.

This whole “being selfless for the person you love” thing sounded a lot better in theory than in actual practice.

He trudged up to his apartment, eyeing David’s door, his heart heavy and sad. Sleeping alone was going to really suck. Walking inside, he flipped on the light and glanced at the boxes of sweaters stacked by the door. They were a testament to how much he already _didn’t_ sleep at his own place. He’d never felt the need to fully move in and transition the apartment from being David’s storage closet into his own space.

Opening the top box, he ran his hand over a black, fuzzy Muppet looking sweater. It was so soft, but still ridiculous. Patrick laughed, pulling it out of the box and bringing it to his nose. It smelled like David, but fainter. It would have to do.

Changing into his pajamas, Patrick crawled into bed, still holding the sweater. He curled up next to it, running his hand down the soft fabric until he finally managed to fall asleep.


	38. Just Like Old Times

David stared through the window of the café. It was dark outside, the few streetlights available in Schitt’s Creek casting their pale light over only small sections of road behind him, and he knew no one could see him standing out here.

His family was seated at a booth in the back, laughing and staring at the enormous menus—just like old times—just like he remembered—only instead of _him_ sitting next to Alexis, it was Ted.

David wanted to cry. He’d been replaced—which made total sense, considering Alexis was _married_ to Ted, but still… it stung.

Which was ridiculous. It shouldn’t sting. David made the _choice_ to leave town.

 _He’d_ left _them_.

Of _course_ they’d moved on without him. Why wouldn’t they?

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Alexis saw him first—letting out a scream as she dove out of the booth and ran full-force at him, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tight.

“Oh my god, _David_!” she yelled, pulling back and slapping his shoulder. “You’re here! Why are you here? Where’s Patrick?” She glanced at the door behind David, as if waiting for Patrick to appear.

“He’s still in New York.”

Alexis frowned. “Trouble in Paradise?”

“No! We’re good. _Someone_ has to run the club. He actually bought me the plane ticket. As—as an anniversary gift. He knew I wanted to see you guys.”

Alexis raised her hands to her mouth. “Ohmygosh, isn’t that the cutest thing ever?” she gushed. “Wait. Anniversary.” Her eyes narrowed. “David, it’s been four months, hasn’t it?”

He nodded, embarrassed. He knew what was coming.

“OhmyGod, _DAVID_. This is your longest relationship ever!”

“I know,” he mumbled. “Can you keep that down, please? Let’s not jinx it.”

“Daaaahvid!” his mother bellowed from the back. “The prodigal son has returned!”

He sighed and smiled. Nothing had actually changed. Not at all.

Wandering over to the table, he let Alexis get in first, then crowded in next to her, facing his parents. Poor Ted was smooshed against the wall, but he didn’t appear to care, grinning over at David from the other side of Alexis.

“Hey there, big guy!”

“Hi, Ted. How’s it going?”

“Great! It’s good to see you. What an egg-sceptional surprise!” he said, grinning and holding up a deviled-egg that somehow was on the table, even though everyone still had menus. That was… pretty concerning, actually.

David laughed weakly and glanced back at his parents who beamed at him from across the table.

“Oh, son, it’s so good to see you!” his dad gushed. “What a surprise! Are you staying at the motel?”

David nodded. “Room seven.”

His mother smiled. “Am I sensing some fond memories bubbling up for you, David?”

“Just a very tiny bubble,” he teased, earning a wicked smile from her. He’d actually missed his mom.

“Where is your sweet beau we’ve heard so much about from your sister? Did he not make the trip?” she asked, her accent all over the place.

“No, he had to stay and run the club. God knows I wasn’t letting Stevie do it by herself. The place would burn down overnight.”

“How long are you staying for?” his dad asked.

“A week. I’ll head back Sunday night.”

“Hey, Babe?” Alexis said, turning to Ted. “Do you care if I have a little sleep over with David tonight? Like old times? We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, for sure! I don’t want to get in the way of family time!”

David scowled. “Inviting yourself over, Alexis? What if I had plans?”

“Oh, David, stop it. What plans? Besides, you know you want me to.”

David sighed. He actually _did_ want her to. But, he also wanted to call Patrick, which he absolutely _couldn’t_ do if Alexis was in the room. That would be awkward as fuck.

“Okay, fiiiine,” he agreed. He’d have to survive with just texting Patrick.

He really didn’t want to stay in that motel room without his sister in the other bed, anyway. It would be wrong. It would _feel_ wrong.

“So, how’s my little entrepreneur doing?” his dad asked. “Tell me about the business.”

“It’s thriving!” David started, but just then Twyla showed up, beaming at him.

“David! It’s so good to see you! I brought you a complementary plate of mozzarella sticks, for old time’s sake.”

David stared down at the limp sticks. “Thanks, Twyla. It’s—it’s good to see you, too.”

He actually meant it.

She beamed at him and wandered off, so David turned back to his dad. “The club is doing great. Patrick somehow found us grant money, don’t ask me how—he’s like some kind of business wizard—but we used it to upgrade and do a bunch of marketing-type things. Our business has really picked up.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Son.”

“Yeah, me too,” David said, smiling. “Not just about business, either.”

“ _Patrick_ got him a plane ticket here for their four-month _anniversary_ ,” Alexis sing-songed. “David’s never had a relationship last this long before.”

“Really? Congratulations, big guy!” Ted said, smiling widely at him.

“Ugh, shut up, Alexis,” David moaned. “You’re going to jinx it.”

“It’s not going to jinx anything, David. Don’t be silly.” Alexis slapped his arm.

“Oh, David, you’re so superstitious,” his mother sighed, rolling her eyes. “Where’d you learn to be so dramatic?”

“I wonder,” he hissed, staring her down.

She glanced away. “Anyway, I think it’s lovely you’ve been seeing the same boy for so long. I’d love to meet him.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would, but that’s not happening any time soon. I’d like to _keep_ my boyfriend, thanks.”

Alexis snorted, but then Twyla showed back up to take everyone’s order and they fell back into a familiar, if not dusty, routine.

***

Dinner actually went really well, mainly because they’d demolished two bottles of Zhampagne since his mother declared it a celebratory feast.

Ted took off early, giving Alexis a long kiss and waving to everyone, and then his mom and dad disappeared shortly after, leaving him and Alexis alone to finish the rest of the bottle.

They left the café, stumbling and giggling. As they passed by Christmas World, David stopped short, staring.

“Alexis,” he slurred. “Why is everything 75% off?”

“Ohhhh,” she breathed. “I forgot to tell you. They’re going out of business.”

“What?!” David yelled, hitting her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal, David, ow!” she said, rubbing her arm. “Since when do you care about cheap Christmas decorations, anyway?”

“I don’t care about the decorations! I care about the _space_.”

“The space? Why do you care about the space?”

David sighed, peering in the front window. “Just an idea I have. Is the town council still in charge of leasing this place?”

“Yes. Are you thinking of leasing it?”

“Maybe. I need to talk to Patrick first.”

Alexis watched him, her eyes calculating. “David Rose, what do you have planned?”

“Nothing yet. Just an idea, okay? Drop it. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Alexis finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s go back to our room! It will be just like old times, David!”

David grinned and linked his arm through hers. “Yeah, that sounds perfect. Let’s do that.”


	39. Zhampagne Dreams

Patrick woke to his phone chiming with a ring-tone he’d always associate with David—the Tina Turner song he’d danced around his kitchen to all those months ago.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice groggy as he glanced at the display. “David, it’s three a.m.”

“Paaaaahtriiiiick,” David gushed. “You’re so pretty. I miss you so much.”

Oh, David was _trashed_.

Patrick grinned and started to answer, but then Alexis’ voice chimed over the line.

“Button! David’s been showing me pictures. You’re very cute, you little button-face, you.”

Aaaaand, she was just as trashed as her brother.

“I take it you two have had a good night?”

There was a muffled shuffling sound, and David was speaking again. “Lexis stole my phone. She’s a menace. _Hi!_ ”

“Hi David. How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Just a little Zhampagne. Maybe lots of Zhampagne. Took a bottle from the café.”

Patrick wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t have heard that right. “Champagne? You’re going to be so sick tomorrow.”

“No, _Zhampagne_ ,” David said. “I’ll be fine. It never makes me sick.”

Patrick was still confused, but he let it go. “How is the rest of your family?”

“Goooood! They say hi. My mom wants to meet you. I told her she has to wait because I love you and I don’t want you to break up with me because my mother is impossible. She’s TV’s Moira Rose!”

“Yes, I know, David,” Patrick said, laughing. “You made me watch that Crows movie, remember?”

“Oh, thas right! So many birds. Birds are like big moths. I don’t like moths.”

“I know, David.”

“You know what I _do_ like?” David’s voice went very quiet, almost conspiratorial.

“What’s that?” Patrick asked, closing his eyes and laying back. Life with David was so annoying and so much fun, pretty much all at the same time.

“ _You_. I like you. I love you, too. You’re very cute, and sexy, and I want to do bad things to you all the time.”

“ _Ew_ , David! Ew!” Alexis screamed in the distance.

Patrick burst out laughing.

“You should probably pay attention to the fact your sister is in the room, David, or else she may kill us both.”

“You’re probably right.” David’s voice was sad. “Only been a day and I miss you so much.”

“Miss you too, baby. Call me when you wake up in the morning, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll call. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Good night, David.”

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

“Goodnight, Button!” Alexis screamed, and then the call cut off.

Patrick laughed, staring at his phone. 

David was going to _hate_ life in the morning.

***

When Patrick woke up again, he grabbed his phone and glanced at the time. Eleven in the morning, and David hadn’t called back. He was probably so sick.

Patrick groaned and shot him a couple quick texts.

**Good morning, baby. Go drink some water and take four aspirin.**

**You have a travel pack in the front pocket of your bag.**

**I thought ahead. I know you.**

He set his phone down, but then picked it up and added,

**I love you.**

Then he rolled out of bed and went to take a shower.

By the time he got out, David still hadn’t responded. He might not hear from him for _hours_ , at this rate.

Sighing, he got dressed and headed to the store. He was stuck for a week by himself, so he may as well start making his apartment actually livable. Stocking the fridge was probably a necessity.

After a couple more hours, when he still hadn’t heard from David, he started to get worried. Dumping his grocery bags on the table, he grabbed his phone and called.

Alexis answered, her voice wrecked. “Hey, Button.”

“Alexis, where’s David?”

“He’s still asleep, the monster. He refuses to get up. I think our tolerance for Zhampagne has greatly reduced over the last couple years.”

Patrick could finally breathe easy again. “Alexis, wake David up and give him the phone, please.”

“Okay, Button. One sec.”

He heard Alexis whining David’s name, and David yelling at her to go away, and then her whining grew louder as she kept repeating his name, over and over and over, and then there was a shuffling noise, an outraged shout, and David’s voice was in his ear, quiet and more miserable than he’d ever heard him.

“Hey, honey.”

“David, I’ve been worried about you. You never called or answered my texts. I thought you said you could handle champagne.”

David groaned. “ _Zhampagne_ , Patrick, and please never utter that word again. Good fucking _God_ , mistakes were made.”

“I can tell. There’s aspirin in your carry on, David. Front pocket.”

“Ohmygod, I love you. You’re a life saver. ALEXIS! Open the front pocket of my bag. There. Right there. In front of you—ohmy _GOD_ —seriously, look down. Okay. Yeah. Bring those to me and some water, thank you.”

Alexis’ voice was far away. “Do I get some, David? My head hurts, too, you know?”

“No, go jump off a bridge, please. I’m trying to talk to my boyfriend.”

“Ugh, David! You big, selfish, dirty raccoon!”

Patrick grinned, listening to the siblings argue. David arguing with his sister was a side of him he hadn’t seen before. He caught glimpses of it with Stevie, but this was on a whole other level. It made him sad he was an only child.

“David,” he said, trying to bring his attention back to the phone.

“Sorry, I’m here.” David groaned. “Next time I attempt something like this, please remind me I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“Sweetie, you’re _definitely_ not a teenager anymore.”

David huffed out a laugh, then groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. My head is killing me.”

“Okay, baby. Close your eyes and sleep it off. Text me when you’re awake again.”

“Ok. Just—what are you doing today?”

“Well, I realized earlier that I haven’t set up cable yet, so I can’t really watch any of the games that are on, so I guess I’m stuck cleaning up my apartment before work.”

“Patrick, you can use my apartment when I’m not there. Go watch my TV.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t want to assume.” He really hadn’t. Being at David’s without David felt kind-of like an imposition.

“Of course I’m sure. You’re practically living there at this point, anyway. Go watch your sportsball while I’m not there and forced to suffer through it with you. What could be more perfect? For _both_ of us.”

Patrick laughed. “Okay. Thank you, David.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Now, I need to go actively die.”

“Have fun!”

“I will, love you.”

The phone cut off and Patrick glanced around his apartment. Cleaning would have to come later, there were games to watch before he had to go back to the club. Just a couple more nights before he had some time off, and then he could finally start to work on this place.


	40. Sebastien is Garbage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light Angst™️, folks. I promise it will be over soon, have no fear- I will not lead you astray.

The next few days were kind of a blur for David. He let himself be yanked around town by Alexis, somehow conned into doing vet errands for Ted, being forced to deal with his mother’s many, many crises, and bizarrely finding himself cleaning motel rooms with his father (and why was _that_ even still a thing?)

It was all very normal, like nothing had changed at all, except for the fact that Stevie wasn’t around to make beds with him, and he really, really missed Patrick.

Spending nights alone without anyone else in the motel room was awful. Despite the fact that they had pretty regular phone sex, which _physically_ exhausted him, David still had a really hard time making himself fall asleep at night. It was too quiet. The room was far too familiar to be so quiet. He missed Alexis’ mumbled nighttime conversations with herself in her sleep, and _there_ was something he never thought he would say.

But, most of all, he missed Patrick’s body wrapped around him like the world’s cuddliest koala bear. He missed his heat, warming him up from the outside-in. He missed the brush of Patrick’s faint stubble on the back of his neck as he kissed him, just before they both started to fall asleep.

It was weird to miss something so achingly _normal_.

At least hanging out with Julie was fun, so there was _that_. He found himself drawn to the office in the same way he had been with Stevie, falling into an easy, sarcastic friendship with her. Plus, his dad was still stocking the coffee bar with cinnamon rolls, so he had a valid excuse to visit, anyway.

Honestly, David had come to the shocking conclusion that he fucking _hated_ being alone now, and wasn’t _that_ a thing?

He sat on the couch in the lobby, waiting for Julie to close down for the night. He planned on dragging her to the café for dinner as a distraction from how much he missed hanging out with Patrick and Stevie. It wasn’t the same, not by a long-shot, but at least it was _something_. He needed the companionship.

He was glad he’d come back to visit, he really was, but next time he did this, Patrick was definitely coming along. David felt like he was missing a limb, which was an odd thing he never thought he’d experience. He’d heard about people being so connected to someone like this—so connected that it physically _hurt_ to be away from them, and he never believed that was actually a real thing.

Not until Patrick, anyway. Now he absolutely knew it was real.

David _ached_. He fucking _ached_ being away from Patrick.

Julie’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Um. David?”

He glanced up, popping the last bit of cinnamon roll in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Is your boyfriend cute? I mean, like boy next door cute? Little shorter than you, good muscles, tragic jeans?”

David sat up, suddenly very uneasy. “Um, yes? Why? How’d you know that?”

“So, topical question—how do you two feel about the spotlight?”

David was on his feet in an instant, rushing over to stand behind Julie, staring at the computer in horror.

Splashed across the screen was an article on some celebrity gossip site, the headline reading, “Has David Rose _Finally_ Settled Down?” complete with what looked like a dozen or so paparazzi shots of him and Patrick—at the club, around the city, but most alarmingly, there was a zoom shot of them standing in David’s kitchen, David’s arms wrapped around Patrick from behind.

David remembered that moment. It was right after he’d run into Sebastien and had his little melt-down. Right before things finally heated up with Patrick.

_Sebastien. Fuck._

_Of course! Of course Sebastien was behind this._

“Let me read that,” he whispered, lightly shoving Julie out of the way as he scanned the article.

It was written in a snarky, disbelieving tone, which David could handle, because _whatever,_ fuck Sebastien… but he froze when he saw Patrick’s full name out there—in print—for all the world to see. Patrick’s name, followed by a sentence that read, _“Our sources say people in Mr. Brewer’s hometown in Canada appear shocked by the news.”_

The fucking asshole had sent someone to Patrick’s hometown to talk to people about him. About him and Patrick. About their relationship. They’d infiltrated Patrick’s hometown because of _him_.

 _Patrick_ , who wasn’t even out to his parents yet.

_Fuck. Fuck. FUCK._

“Oh, God,” he whispered, bringing his hands to his mouth. “This is very, very bad.”

Julie made a humming noise. “It’s not that bad of an article, really. And the pictures are sweet. You two are obviously in love, so whoever wrote this is just jealous.”

“Um, yeah, probably true, but that’s not the major issue here. I need to call Patrick. How long has this been posted?”

“Like three hours. Holy cow, it’s got so many likes already, David. I had no idea you were so famous.”

“I’m B-list, at best. My club is just popular. Oh, God. Three _hours_?”

“Yeah, why is this such a big deal? I thought you were serious about Patrick.”

“I am! It’s just—he’s not out to anyone in his old life yet. Not his parents, not anyone. He wasn’t ready to tell them. I’m the first guy he’s been with. Like, _ever_. He was engaged to a girl before he moved to New York. No one back home even knows he’s gay.”

“Um, well I think it’s safe to say they do now….”

“Shit, shit. I need to call him, hold on.” He pulled out his phone with shaking hands and dialed. It went immediately to voice mail. “Oh God. Oh no.”

He shot him a quick text.

**Call me!!**

Then he sank to the floor, his head in his hands. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when things were so fucking perfect.

Julie watched him, clearly concerned. “I’m sure it’s fine, David. But, just in case, should we get Alexis over here?”

David nodded. “Yeah. Probably a good idea.”

Glancing at his phone again, he dialed Stevie.

She answered on the second ring, sounding stressed.

“David, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know! You think I had _any_ idea this was happening?”

“No, of course not, but you know Sebastien was behind this, right?”

“Yeah, I sorted that out when I saw the creepy, long-range stalker shot. Where’s Patrick? He’s not answering his phone. H-how is he? Is he mad at me?”

“No, I don’t think he’s mad. He was just really frazzled and kind-of stunned. He got a call from his ex-fiancée. I guess she laid into him pretty good, and then his parents called, so he took off.”

“Took off?” David cried. “Took off to _where_?!”

“I don’t know. Back home? He told me to shut the club down for the rest of the week. Probably a good idea, anyway. There are SO many damn paparazzi outside right now, it’s ridiculous.”

 _Back home_. Patrick went back _home_.

Patrick was heading back to Canada.

Back to his _home_.

New York wasn’t his home.

 _David_ wasn’t his home.

Of course he wasn’t. Why did he ever believe he could be? Why did he believe their relationship could weather something like this? Patrick was probably so overwhelmed and scared and hurt, and this was _all_ David’s fault.

“Stevie. If you hear from him—tell him I’m s-sorry. Tell him I really do love him, and I’m s-sorry. I understand if he never wants to see me again.”

“David, don’t be ridic—”

He hung up before she could finish the sentence.

“Julie, I’m going to have to take a rain check on tonight. I-I think I need to go back to my room.”


	41. Dumb Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm allergic to conflict, so I won't make you guys wait this out (much like we're probably all waiting for some horrifying shoe to drop in Season 6- THANKS, DAN)... so I'll just keep this rolling along.

Patrick had not been expecting the day to go quite like it had. He’d been in the middle of an apartment deep clean, his arms full of David’s sweater boxes, when his phone rang.

Without even looking at the display, he answered, fumbling the phone to stuff it into place between his ear and neck. Honestly, the only person who ever really called him was David, anyway.

“Hey, baby! I’m just in the middle of cleaning. Your sweaters are ridiculous. How many boxes do you really need in storage, anyway?”

There was a beat of silence, then Rachel’s voice blasted through the receiver.

“What. The. _Fuck_. Patrick?!”

He dropped the boxes, one of them landing on his foot.

“Shit. Ow! Rachel, hi! Uh, what—why—are you--?”

“Save it, Patrick. Since when did you know you were gay? How long has this been going on? Were you sleeping with guys when we were together? Is that why you called off the wedding?”

Patrick’s stomach dropped, ice filling his veins. “W-what?”

“It’s all over the internet, Patrick. You and some guy named David Rose? Nice pictures, by the way. Real nice. You never once looked at me like that, not the whole time we were together. God, I’m such an idiot.” She laughed, the sound bitter. “He’s hot, though. _Really_ hot. At least you have good taste, even if you lied to me for fifteen fucking years.”

“I-I didn’t lie to you, Rachel, I swear. I just didn’t know. I didn’t realize, not really. Not until David.” He ran his hand across his forehead. He was shaking. He needed to sit down, so he sank to the floor. “Who else knows?” he whispered. “Do my parents?”

“I assume so. The whole town is talking about it.”

“Oh God. That’s—that’s. Wow. That’s something. Wait. It’s online? Where?”

“Ugh. Hold on, I’ll send you the link.”

His phone buzzed and he pulled it away from his ear, clicking on the link and quickly reading, taking in the photos. How had they even managed to get that one of him and David in the kitchen?!

“Oh my god,” he whispered, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Rachel, I’m so sorry you found out like this. I swear, I didn’t know this about me—I didn’t know when I broke off the wedding. Not really. I just knew it didn’t feel right. That _we_ weren’t right. Now I understand why.”

“Well, clearly.” Her voice was softer now, but still hurt. “You could have told me, Patrick. Even after—after you left. Once you started dating him. You could have called me and told me. I would have understood.”

“ _Would_ you have, though?”

“Yes! At least then things would have made _sense_! As it stood, until I read this article, I just thought I’d done something wrong. That I’d done something to make you stop loving me.”

“I never stopped loving you, Rachel. I just didn’t love you like… well—”

“Like you love David,” she finished.

“Yeah. Not like that,” he admitted. There were tears in his eyes and he brushed them away. “He took me by surprise, that’s all, and then I was so scared to tell anyone. I thought you’d all hate me—judge me, I guess.” He sighed. “It’s so easy here, in this world, to be who I am. Who I am with David. But, back there—I guess I didn’t want to disappoint everyone—disappoint _you_.”

“ _Disappoint_?” Rachel sighed. “Patrick, I’m only disappointed because you didn’t tell me. Once you knew, though—you didn’t tell me, and that really hurts. I was your best friend before I was anything else, remember? I’ve known you since we were kids. I’m okay with you being gay, Patrick. I know you can’t help who you are inside.” She paused. “You _are_ gay, right? Not Bi?”

“Definitely gay,” he said, laughing through his tears.

Rachel snorted. “Well, believe it or not, that’s actually really helpful for me to hear you say that. It ties up a lot of loose ends for me.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I really am.”

“I know you are.”

“Oh God, I’m going to have to talk to Mom and Dad about this. I was planning on coming home for Christmas. I was going to bring David and tell everyone then. But, now—oh man. I have to come home right now, I think.”

“Like right now, right now? Are you bringing David?”

“No, he’s actually back in Canada at the moment. With _his_ family. I-I sent him on a trip to see them. God, this timing _really_ sucks. He’s close to Toronto, though. Really close. I might be able to grab him first.”

“If you do bring him here—can I—can I meet him? I realize it might be weird, but I guess—well, I see how you look at him, Patrick. In those pictures, I see it, I _do_. But, I guess I still need to see the two of you together, in the flesh. I think it will help—help me get past the whole wedding thing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we can do that. I’d need to talk to David about it, of course, but I’m sure he’d understand.”

“Okay. Even if not, let me know when you’re back in town, alright? If anything, I want to see _you_.”

“I will. Thank you, Rachel. For calling and letting me know about this.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly calling with the best intentions.”

“No, I know that. But, thank you, still. For understanding. I need to take care of this with my parents, now. Holy fuck.” He blew out a long breath.

“Your parents are good people, Patrick,” said Rachel, her voice soft. “They love you.”

“I know, but… this—this is a lot. I need to be in the same room with them when I explain.” He sighed. “And—and thanks for talking this out with me, Rachel. I h-hope that we can be okay—someday.”

“I think that’s a very real possibility now, Patrick.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll talk to you later, I promise.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Patrick hung up and stared at his phone. Should he call David?

No.

No, _bad_ idea.

There was a good chance David didn’t even _know_ about the article yet. 

David didn’t pay attention to anything on social media or gossip sites, not really. He’d had enough of that to last his whole life, and he’d even gone so far as to remove all the apps from his phone. He might not know about it yet, and then Patrick could tell him in person, once he was back in Canada.

That would be better. For both of them.

David would _absolutely_ spiral if Patrick wasn’t physically there to comfort him about this.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s what he was going to do. He was going to go to David first. Then they’d deal with his parents, together. A unified front. His parents would understand if they saw them together.

Jumping up, he packed a bag, quickly told Stevie he was headed back home, and ordered her to close up for the rest of the week.

Then he left.

***

Patrick was six hours into the drive before he realized his phone died and he’d forgotten to pack a charger.

Honestly, that was probably a _good_ thing. Before he left New York, his parents had called about five times, and he could only imagine how many times they’d continued to try since then.

He felt awful about not contacting David, though, and he started to really worry about it once he realized the phone had died. Not calling him had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now that the initial panic had receded, Patrick realized what an extremely fucking _stupid_ decision it had been.

What if David _did_ find out about the article, and now Patrick wasn’t able to answer his phone? This was _David_ they were talking about. He’d absolutely assume the worst, especially given his history.

Patrick knew his history—they’d talked about it in length. They’d specifically discussed David’s _particularly_ messy past of sleeping with guys who dumped him after suddenly deciding they didn’t want anyone in their lives to know they were gay. David had just been an experiment—a test subject—too many times to count. He’d explained how bad that made him feel. How worthless he felt knowing he was just a trial run that failed, even when he really wanted it to work.

Which is _exactly_ what David would think was happening now, especially if he’d tried to get ahold of him and Patrick didn’t answer his fucking phone!

_Oh God._

_Oh God._

_FUCK._

He needed to call David.

Immediately.

He stopped at the next 24-hour gas station and grabbed a portable charger, plugging in his phone and waiting for it to boot back up, his heart in his throat.

Sure enough, there were a volley of missed calls from his parents, a couple from Alexis, one from Stevie—but, the most worrisome fact of all was that there was only one call and one text from David, both five hours earlier.

**Call me!!**

“Oh noooo,” Patrick moaned. “Oh no, oh no, oh NO!”

He immediately dialed David back, but the phone went straight to voicemail.

David _never_ let his phone battery die, so he’d clearly turned it off on purpose.

This was very, very bad.

Patrick called Alexis next.

She answered after a couple rings, her voice sleepy. “Button! What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m about two hours from you. Where’s David. _How’s_ David? He found out about the article, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, Patrick—how come you didn’t answer your phone? David’s—he’s not doing well with this.”

“I forgot to pack a charger. I just realized the battery died. I tried calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail. I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, I don’t see that happening right now. He’s holed up in the motel room and refuses to come out. Double-locked the door and everything. He’s big-time spiraling.”

“Fuck.”

“How soon can you get here, Button? It’s the middle of the night, and there’s no way David is leaving the room at night. But, I can’t guarantee he _won’t_ bail first thing in the morning. He runs when he’s hurting, and he’s really hurting right now.”

“I’ll try and make it there in an hour and a half. What can I do? How can I make this better?”

“Just get here, Button. He has a really bad history with this sort of thing. He refuses to talk to me, but I think he assumes the worst. He really, really loves you. Like, I’ve never seen him like this over anyone, ever. You may need to have to do something big to get him to trust you again—to prove you want him long-term.” She paused. “You _do_ want him long-term, right? You’re not going to suddenly pretend you’re not gay, or something….”

“Of course I’m not going to do that! This is absolutely long-term for me. I was actually on my way to talk to my parents, to tell them about David—tell them how serious I am about him. My ex already knows, we had a long talk tonight, over the phone. I’m coming for David first, though. We can go talk to my parents together.”

“That sounds like a really good idea, Button. And, just so you know, no one has _ever_ fought for David before. He’s never had anyone try to make things better, to win him back. He won’t be expecting it. He expects exactly the opposite, so—just hurry, okay?” She sighed. “I don’t like seeing my brother like this.”

“I’m going to floor it the whole fucking way to get to him, Alexis.”


	42. David Spirals

David couldn’t move. His body felt like a pile of shattered glass from the amount of crying he’d done in the last few hours. Honestly, he had probably permanently ruined his complexion. He sure as hell had ruined his eyes. He could barely see, they were so swollen.

That didn’t really matter, though. He wasn’t going to leave this room any time soon. No one would ever see him—not for the foreseeable future, anyway. He didn’t need vision. Vision was a luxury for people who cared about venturing into the outside world. He didn’t. Besides, he knew his way around this room with his eyes closed, anyway.

This stupid fucking motel room.

He was going to waste away and die in Room 7 of the Rosebud Motel, and it would be fucking _poetic_. A life come full circle. Tragic David Rose, who lost everything, _twice_ —only to end up on the same lumpy motel mattress each time.

Alexis had spent most of the night trying to convince him to let her in, but he didn’t want to deal with talking to anyone about this right now—not even her. He felt horrible—a mixture of guilt over bringing Sebastien into Patrick’s orbit, and so much hurt over the fact that Patrick wouldn’t just _talk_ to him about it.

Why wouldn’t he just talk to him about it? At least yell at him—just do something— _anything_. Not this horrible, awful, heartbreaking silence. Not from Patrick. He couldn’t deal with this reaction from Patrick.

This silence was going to fucking kill him.

It was his past all over again, coming back to haunt him. He’d never escape it. It was like some kind of never-ending Groundhog’s Day of horrible things, without any of the comedic elements. He didn’t know what he’d done in a past life to deserve any of it, but clearly something really, really bad.

David Rose was damaged goods, and everyone just kept damaging him more. It was like canon.

He really thought Patrick was different, though.

 _Finally_. Finally, he’d found something good. _Someone_ good.

He honestly thought they’d had something real.

But, still—he couldn’t blame Patrick for running. Not really. After all, it’s not every day you’re publically outed to your family and friends on the biggest gossip site on the internet. What a fucking blow to the gut _that_ must have been.

God, poor Patrick. Fuck.

David just wanted to hug him. He wanted to scream at him, sure. He wanted to absolutely _rage_ at him for not being strong enough to get through this together, but he wanted to hug him most of all. This had to feel awful, being forced to come out like this—in such a messy way. It was so intrusive. So _wrong_.

He didn’t blame Patrick for cutting him off. Of _course_ he cut him off. Why wouldn’t he?

It’s exactly what Sebastien wanted to happen. David knew it. One last knife in David’s ribs, just for the hell of it. One last way to really hurt him.

God, David _hated_ Sebastien. He was an absolute garbage person, full of vindictive, gross behavior, and David had somehow managed to throw the love of his life right into his path.

The love of his life.

 _God_. Patrick was the love of his fucking life, and he’d still managed to ruin him.

 _David_ was a garbage person, too.

Poor Patrick.

Sighing, David wiped his eyes and turned his phone back on. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight anyway, so he may as well play a game, or something. Anything to try and get his mind off all this.

It booted back up, and David winced as his home screen photo appeared. That fucking photo.

THE photo.

He loved that photo.

He hated it now, too.

Sniffing, he opened the phone log. Soooo many texts from Alexis. A couple from Stevie. Not a single text from Patrick, though. Of course not.

His heart dropped and broke somewhere around the vicinity of his ankles.

David whimpered and scanned his missed calls next, sitting up straight once his eyes cleared long enough to be able to actually focus on the display.

Patrick had tried to call. _He’d tried to call!_ Just about two hours ago. He didn’t leave a message, though. Why didn’t he leave a message?

David’s stomach jumped to his throat, his finger hovering over redial.

Should he?

No. He _couldn’t_.

He didn’t want to know it was over. Not officially. If he _didn’t_ call, he could just lay here and pretend this was all a bad dream. That Patrick still loved him, they’d see each other in a couple days, and everything would be okay again.

Still, it was probably better to know, though, right? Like ripping off a Band-Aid. A really gross, horrible Band-Aid.

He had to do it.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he hit connect.

_C’est la vie._

Patrick answered after only one ring, the phone either being dropped or fumbled. David listened to a couple seconds of scrambling shuffling noises, and then Patrick’s voice was in his ear, breathless and worried. “David? Is that you? Or Alexis, did you just steal his phone?”

“It’s me,” David whispered. He couldn’t make his voice work right.

“David! Thank God! Hold on, give me a second. Let me park.” There was the sound of a car slowing and stopping, and the engine shutting off. “Okay. Talk to me. Where are you? Are you still locked in your room? You haven’t left the motel yet, have you?”

“No. How’d you know I was locked in my room?”

“Alexis has been giving me constant updates.”

“You’ve been talking to Alexis? What? Why didn’t you call me?”

“My phone died. I forgot to pack a charger. I tried calling when I saw you called, but—did—did you turn off your phone, David?”

“Yeah. Look, Patrick, listen—”

“No, _you_ listen!” Patrick interrupted. “I’ve been worried sick about you, baby. It’s okay. _We’re_ okay. I promise. I know you’ve assumed the worst because I _know_ you, David, but I promise we’re okay.”

David collapsed onto the bed, all the air leaving his lungs. Of all the things Patrick could have said to him, this was _not_ what he’d been expecting to hear.

“W-what? But, how can we be okay? You just got outed to God and everyone, Patrick. This is my fault—some asshole ex of mine ruined your life—how can we possibly be okay?”

“David. My life isn’t ruined. Far from it. Baby, open the door. Can you do that for me?”

David frowned, confused. “Open what door?”

“The motel room door. Open it.”

“Why would I want to do _that_? I can’t deal with Alexis right now. She’s probably camped outside, isn’t she? I swear to God, she knocked for _hours_ earlier. She’s a fucking menace! I _told_ her I didn’t want to talk, but she wouldn’t leave well enough—”

“David Rose. Stop talking and open the fucking door!”

“Eep.” The words died in David’s throat. Patrick had never actually raised his voice at him before. “Um. Okay?”

He rolled off the bed and trudged to the door, unlocking the double locks he’d enforced earlier and flinging it open.

“Go away, Alexi—Oh!”

Patrick stood at the doorstep, his eyes huge and worried, his gaze roaming over David’s most likely completely ruined face.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” Patrick’s voice was so soft—so , so sad. He took a step forward, reaching for David.

David crumpled to the ground.


	43. Historically Speaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavier stuff here, folks. TW for some talk of past DV. 
> 
> In other words, David's been through a lot.

Patrick stared down at the prone, limp body of his boyfriend— _God, I hope he’s still my boyfriend_ —and his stomach dropped to his feet.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, crouching down to scoop David up and carry him to the tiny, little twin bed by the door. “C’mon, let’s get you tucked in.”

“No, Patrick, I’m too heavy—” David started to protest.

“I’m stronger than I look, David.” He kissed the top of David’s head, breathing in the familiar cedar and pine scent he’d missed so much over the last few days. “Not just physically, either.”

David snuffled against his shoulder. “Patrick, we need to talk.”

“Yep, we do. But, let’s get comfortable first, okay?”

“Okay,” David said, sighing. Patrick felt him relax for a second against his chest, only to tense again when Patrick set him on the bed.

“Here, scooch over,” he ordered, and David made room for him with a little whimpering noise.

Patrick stared down at him. God, David looked awful—absolutely wrecked. He reached over and ran his fingers through David’s tangled hair.

David let out another whimper and Patrick’s heart broke a little. He curled up next to him and gathered him close, David’s body fairly limp in his arms.

“David. First off, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”

David shook his head, his movement frantic against Patrick’s chest. “What?! _You’re_ sorry? Patrick, this is all _my_ fault. I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. For—for wanting to end things.” The last word broke on a little sob.

Patrick squeezed him tighter. “I’m not ending anything, David. _God_. I just drove eight hours through the fucking night to get to you—do you honestly think I did that just to _end_ things?”

David started shaking. “I don’t know. I don’t know why you came all this way. Patrick. Why are you even here?”

“Because I love you, you idiot,” Patrick said, kissing his forehead. “I knew you were going to spiral about this, so I needed to be with you. To show you it was okay. That we’re going to be okay.”

“How can we be okay? How can you still love me? I just blew up your whole life!”

“ _You_ didn’t blow up anything. Some gossip rag did that, and it’s not blown up, anyway. It’s just— _uncomfortable_ —but that’s on me. I should have told my parents about me—about _us_ —ages ago. None of this is your fault, David.” He kissed his head again. “And my whole life isn’t blown up, even if my parents react badly, which for the record, I don’t think they will—they might just be confused—but regardless, my whole life is with _you_ , David. Not back there. I don’t care what people from my home town think about me loving you. What matters to me is what _you_ think. That you still want me.”

“Of course I still want you,” David cried, his voice muffled and wet sounding against Patrick’s chest. He started shaking again, so Patrick drew him tighter. “I thought I lost you. I thought you’d cut me off.”

“I’m so sorry, David. I’m an idiot for forgetting the damn phone charger. I was just in a hurry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here. You’re actually here.” David sounded so shocked, so confused. “How are you actually here right now?”

“Because _you’re_ here,” Patrick answered. “As if I’d be anywhere else right now.” He paused. “But, David. We need to talk. You said an ex of yours did this? How? How’d they even manage to get it on the internet like that?”

“Sebastien,” David said, his voice dull. “It was Sebastien.”

“Oh. _Him_. Right. Paparazzi. Yeah, I met him. I’m not surprised.”

David recoiled and he stared at Patrick in horror. “You _met_ him? _When_?!”

“The other night. He came by the club looking for you. I may have kicked him out.”

“Oh. Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Patrick shrugged. “It’s fine. I didn’t much like him _before_ he introduced himself. I enjoyed throwing him out.” He frowned. “It’s just—he doesn’t know me at all. Why would he want to fuck with me like this? What did I ever do to him?”

“He’s fucking with you to get to me. That’s why it’s my fault.” David sounded so sad.

Patrick shook his head. “Nope. Nu-uh. You’re not doing this. We’re done spiraling. It’s not your fault. Just—why does he still want to hurt you so bad?”

“Long story,” David said, sniffing.

“Well, we have plenty of time. I love you, David. I know you don’t like talking about your past, but if we’re going to do this—long term—you’ve got to start trusting I can handle it. I want to understand you, baby.”

“You probably understand me better than anyone, already.” David’s voice was very small. “You don’t need to know my gorier details to accomplish that.”

“Regardless. Talk to me, David. Please?”

David sighed. “Okay. Um, Sebastien and I dated for a little bit.”

“Yeah, you already told me that part. He used you to get photos, I know. But, why would he still want to hurt you over that? _He_ was the asshole in the situation, not you.”

David shook his head and rolled over, flopping his arm across his face.

“It’s more complicated than that. So, right after we lost everything and moved, Sebastien suddenly showed up in Schitt’s Creek. He said he was doing some fine-art piece on my mother and wanted to photograph her.” David sucked in a deep breath and shuddered. “Anyway, Mom never was the best at paying attention to my life, and she completely forgot I’d dated him or how it ended. She forgot that he was actually a fucking gossip photographer, not a _fine-art_ one, and she thought she was doing me a favor. She thought I’d be so happy to see my _friend_. Newsflash—I wasn’t.”

“Jesus. That probably wasn’t fun.”

“No, it was awful. He acted like nothing had changed between us and convinced my mom to let him take pictures of her wearing her finest clothes standing against the least-flattering backdrops in town he could find. By the time she finally caught on to what was happening, he’d taken probably hundreds of photos. If any of them had leaked, it would have ruined her. She would have been a laughing stock to everyone she knew. My mother wouldn’t be able to handle that. It would have killed her”

“Why? Why would Sebastien want to do that to your mom?”

David shrugged, his arm still covering his eyes. “Because he’s a horrible person? He likes getting off on other people’s discomfort. Plus, our breakup was—messy. He didn’t take too well to being called out on his shit.”

Something in David’s tone made Patrick go very still. “David? What does that mean, exactly? How _messy_?”

David shrugged again. “He, uh—he got violent.”

Patrick saw red. He had a hard time hearing through the roaring in his ears. David was talking, but he couldn’t make out the words. He held up a finger. “Hold on. I need a minute.”

When he finally could, he opened his eyes and glanced over at David.

David stared back at him, face pale and drawn. “See? I knew I shouldn’t have told you. There’s some really heavy shit in my past, Patrick. Stuff you probably don’t want to hear about. Stuff I don’t necessarily want to _talk_ about, and this is why. I don’t want you to look at me like that.”

Patrick shook his head. “I’m not upset with you, David. Fuck. Of course I’m not.” He paused, trying to formulate words through all the rage he felt brewing under his skin. “Just, _how_ violent was he, David?”

“Um. Well, I didn’t go out in public for a couple weeks.”

“Jesus. _Fuck!_ ”

David shook his head. “It’s okay. Alexis became like a woman on a mission. She fucking _ruined_ him. It was glorious. All the times I’d come to her rescue in our lives, and she finally repaid me ten-fold. She was a fucking force, back then. She got herself into so many fucked up situations, and then got herself out of them—sometimes with my help, sometimes not—she just knew people. Shady as fuck people. Knew how to get things done that honestly still terrify me.” He smiled wanly. “Sebastien didn’t work for at least a year. He lost his apartment, all his friends dropped him—life wasn’t easy for him for a really long time. Thus—the need to ruin the Roses… but he got his in the end, I promise.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to kill him. I swear to God, David. He put his _hands_ on you.”

“No. He’s not worth it. And Alexis already took care of it. He paid for it.”

“That’s still under debate, believe me. But, how did the photos of your mom not leak? Was that Alexis’ doing, too?”

“Um, no. That was me. I took care of them.”

Patrick stilled. “How?”

David flushed, looking away. “I stole the memory card from his camera while he was asleep and destroyed it.”

“While he was _asleep_?”

“Yeah. I was, uh, in his room at the time.”

Patrick sat up, staring at David, his mouth hanging open. “David! You slept with him? After what he did to you?”

David winced. “I didn’t have a choice. The photos would have _killed_ my mom, Patrick. I didn’t know what else to do. I needed to help her.” He sighed. “Besides, I think I took something back for myself that night, too. It actually helped. It made me stronger, somehow. Like I’d taken some power back from him.”

Patrick scrubbed his face and struggled to breathe.

David’s voice was very quiet. “I’m sorry, honey. I, um, I know I’m a lot to take. My past—it’s ugly.”

Patrick surged across the tiny bed and pulled David as close as he could, wrapping his arms around him and hugging tight.

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize. You’re the strongest person I know, David, and you have the biggest heart of anyone on this whole planet. I love you so much. You’re not too much for me. You never will be. I hate your past because it hurt you, but it will never affect how I feel about _you_. Okay?”

David sniffled against his shoulder and Patrick felt wetness trickle down his neck. “Okay.”

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to sleep.”

“So do you. You just drove eight hours in the middle of the night to get here.”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah, and I will. Just—I want to make sure you sleep first, David. It’s going to be okay. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“You’ll still be here? Promise?” David’s voice was still so small, so uncertain, and it _killed_ Patrick.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, I promise.”

David nodded. “Okay.” He sniffled again, tentatively tightening his grip around Patrick’s waist. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for not giving up on me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, David. Go to sleep now.”

David made a soft sound and snuggled closer. Patrick stared at the ceiling, listening as David’s breathing calmed and the tension started to leave his body. It didn’t take long before he fell asleep against Patrick’s side.

It took Patrick a hell of a lot longer to manage to do the same.


	44. Ode to Not Waking Up Alone

For the first time in his history of sleeping in this bed, in _this_ particular room, David didn’t wake up alone.

Patrick lay snuggled up next to him with his arm looped around David’s waist and his head resting on his shoulder. The bed was so tiny, and David was very glad that neither one of them had tumbled off the edge at any point during the night.

His eyes still felt puffy, but much better than they had yesterday. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about his body. He felt absolutely wrecked—his muscles screamed and he was physically exhausted. It was almost like he had the flu, or some kind of weird, emotional, soul-sucking virus. His arms and legs were numb—filled with lead—and his stomach just felt _gross_.

Last night had been _heavy_. Far too heavy. He hated thinking about his past, and the last thing he ever wanted was to drag Patrick down that path with him. To have to explain to Patrick about the many, many mistakes he’d made over the course of his life. To have to explain situations like the one that happened with Sebastien.

David shuddered, trying to lock _that_ particular memory back up. Didn’t want to remember that one anymore. Nope.

Patrick stirred, moving his head as his eyes blinked open. “Hey. Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

David shook his head. “Not shaking. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, honey.”

“You _are_. What’s wrong?” Patrick propped himself up on his forearm and stared down at David. “Talk to me.”

“Oh no, we talked _plenty_ last night. I’m good with not going down memory lane right now, okay?”

Patrick watched him silently for a second and then nodded. “Okay, David. We don’t have to talk about things that happened in your past right now. But, can we—can we talk about our future?”

_Our future._

_There_ were a couple terrifying words.

“Um. Yes? Is it a long future, or....” David blinked and swallowed. “Or is this like one of those _we should go different directions_ types of conversations?”

Patrick grimaced. “David. Stop. I thought we covered this last night? I said we’re good.”

“Well, yes. But that was _last night_. Before you had a chance to think about it and change your mind.”

“David, I haven’t changed my mind. Why do you keep questioning this? Questioning how I feel? Why are you so certain I’m going to stop loving you?”

David sighed and scrunched his eyes closed. “It’s just— _historically_ , that’s what happens. It’s habit, to feel this way. The last couple days have really brought up a lot of demons for me, Patrick. This whole thing is just—I never wanted you to get hurt because of mistakes I made in the past.”

He felt Patrick’s lips ghost across his forehead, his voice so close and so soft. “I know you never wanted that, David.”

David shook his head. “It’s killing me. That someone like Sebastien could have fucked up your world so much. That he _still_ can fuck with me by hurting the people I love. I don’t know if he’ll ever stop trying to hurt me, and I don’t want you to get stuck in that minefield any more than you already have been.”

“I can handle it, David. For _you_ , I could handle anything.”

David’s eyes flew open at that. “But, _why_?”

Patrick smiled, fond and sad. “David. I’d walk through a fucking fire for you, you know that, right?”

David bit his lip. “I’d love to believe that, Patrick, I really would. I know you believe that right now, but what happens the next time another Sebastien situation comes along? It’s entirely possible, you know? My past is—it’s not been a string of excellent choices. I’ve made so many mistakes, have so many fucking demons I don’t want you to ever find out about. I’m so afraid, Patrick. I’m so afraid of loving you like this and having you leave me like everyone else. I think—I love you so much, I think that might actually kill me.”

Patrick’s arms were around him in a flash, and David found himself being pulled on top of Patrick’s body as Patrick’s strong arms wrapped around him. “You don’t have to worry about that, I promise. God, David. No one has ever—it’s never been like this for me. You’re _it_. You’re it for me, okay? I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many of your demons surface. I’ll fight them all for you, every single one, always. You’re worth everything to me.”

David trembled, listening to Patrick’s heartbeat, so strong and sure. “You’re everything to me, too,” he whispered.

Patrick squeezed him tight and David let his eyes close—let calm wash over him for a second. Just for a second….

***

When David woke up again, it was to the sound of water running and an empty bed. Patrick was in the shower.

David sighed and glanced at the window. It was light enough outside that it must be mid-morning. He felt less wrung out than he had a few hours ago, at least. Sleep helped. Sleeping next to Patrick _definitely_ helped. He’d apparently gotten so used to Patrick’s compact body curled up next to him—like his own, personal heating pad—that sleeping without him for a couple nights had been the worst sleep he’d gotten in years.

Groaning, he grabbed his phone and read through the steady string of messages from Alexis, all panicked and worried.

Sighing, he called her. He was too emotionally exhausted to type it all out, anyway.

She answered on the first ring. “David! What’s going on? Are you okay? Is Patrick there?”

“Yeah. He’s here. I’m okay. We just fell asleep. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Oh, thank God. David, you wouldn’t talk to me last night. I saw the article. It was Sebastien, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“That mother-fucker,” Alexis’ voice was low, dangerous. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

David laughed. “Patrick said the same thing.”

“Well, that’s because he’s a smart little Button. I knew I liked him. When can I meet him in person?”

“Um, soon? I don’t know. He’s in the shower. I’m not leaving the room any time soon, though. I look like death. No one should see me like this. Not even Patrick. _Especially_ not Patrick, but it’s too late for that now.”

“He loves you, David.” Alexis sounded very serious. “He was so worried about you. He probably broke so many traffic laws coming up here.”

David felt a little thrill ping through him over that—his normally rule-abiding boyfriend breaking the law for him. “Oh. Well, I love him, too.”

“I know you do. David—and this wasn’t your fault. You have got to stop blaming yourself for Sebastien’s shit. Nothing he ever did, nothing he will _ever_ do, is your fault. He’s a horrible person and I honestly wish I still had connections with the KGB, because he fucking needs to die.”

David laughed. “Please don’t commit homicide for me, Alexis.”

“It would be considered collusion, and I’d do anything for you, David. You’re my brother.”

“I know.” David wiped away a tear. “But, don’t make me cry any more. My eyes are already shot to hell and I’m out of my serum from Paris.”

“Okay. Come to town later tonight? There’s something going on at the café tonight. Twyla’s idea, so you _know_ it will be interesting. You need some ridiculousness to get your mind off things. And, Patrick is here now! Yay, David! He came for you! Isn’t that the most romantic thing, like _ever_?! Look at you, in a real relationship. You have a man who really loves you, David.”

“Yeah, I know,” David’s voice came out raspy. “Yeah.”

“Okay, text me tonight if you can make it, alright? I want to see my big brother some more before you leave town again. It’s been way too long, David.”

“I know it has. I’m sorry. I’ll try and do better from now on.”

“Okay.” Her voice was softer, pleased. “You do that. I love you, David. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” The water in the bathroom shut off and David glanced up at the door. “I have to go now, Alexis. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, byeeeeee,” she chirped, and David hung up the phone.

He got out of bed on shaky legs, almost like a magnet was pulling him to the bathroom door. He just wanted to be near Patrick. He reached the door, his hand reaching out for the knob when it opened, and Patrick was standing there—towel wrapped low on his waist, the skin above pink and damp from the shower.

All the air in David’s lungs disappeared in a long whoosh.

Patrick was so beautiful.

He was so fucking _loved_.

David needed to show him just _how_ loved.

He dropped to his knees and yanked the off the towel, throwing it to the floor. Patrick made a small noise of surprise that quickly morphed into a long, drawn out moan once David put his mouth on him.

Then he set about showing Patrick just how much he _really_ fucking loved him.


	45. At the Cafe

Patrick lay collapsed on the floor—half in, half out of the small, dingy motel bathroom, his chest heaving and his mind totally blown.

That had been—wow, that had been—

“Jesus, David,” he gasped. “What the fuck was _that_?”

David hummed happily, his head resting on Patrick’s thigh. “That was my good morning to you, Mr. Brewer.”

Patrick laughed. “Um, good morning. Holy shit, David.”

David laughed, kissing the skin of Patrick’s thigh nearest his mouth. Patrick’s heart thumped hard, hearing that bright, happy giggle again. He’d been so scared he wouldn’t hear it any time soon.

“Hey, come here,” Patrick slurred, grabbing at David’s shoulders. “Get up here.”

David snorted. “If you think I’m going to put my head anywhere near that bathroom floor, you’re seriously mistaken.” He sat up and smiled down at Patrick, some of the darkness that haunted his eyes earlier now gone. “Here, _you_ get up. You stay like that any longer, you’re going to need another shower.”

He stood and held out his hand for Patrick to grab, hauling him up off the floor and wrapping his arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “Good morning.”

Patrick hugged him back, not wanting to let go. “Good morning, David.” He squeezed again. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat, yeah,” David said, humming a little pleased noise. “I didn’t have dinner last night. A little, uh… a little too much going on.”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to go find the café and get you some breakfast. You stay here and relax. You’ve earned it.”

“Oh, _have_ I?” David teased.

Patrick squeezed again. “You know that was amazing. I can’t even—where’d you learn to do that?”

“Hmm, years of practice, I guess.”

A little flash of jealousy shot through Patrick. He didn’t like thinking of David _practicing_ on anyone else, but fuck—if _that_ was the result, maybe he could live with it.

David must have sensed Patrick’s thought process because he pulled back and landed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Hey. That part of my life is over and done with. You’re the only one benefiting from my experience now. I want to show you everything. _Everything_. Okay? Just you.”

Patrick nodded over the lump in his throat. “Okay. That sounds—yeah. Um, I’m going to put clothes on now and find the café, or else I’ll never leave. Anything you like to eat, specifically?”

David smiled. “Just tell Twyla to give me my regular. She’ll know.”

“Twyla?”

“She’s the owner-slash-waitress-slash-witch, or something. You’ll understand when you meet her.” David pinched Patrick’s waist. “Go get dressed. I’m starving and the longer you stand there naked, the more I’m tempted to keep you like that for the rest of the day.”

Patrick reluctantly moved out of the warmth of David’s arms and nodded. “Yup, getting dressed now.” He drew on his jeans and buttoned his shirt with oddly shaky hands. David had really, really blown his mind. He was still recuperating, apparently.

Once he was fully dressed, he walked over to David, kissing him lightly. “I’ll be back soon.”

David laughed, the sound rueful. “The last time someone said that to me, it was a circus clown who painted my face in the middle of the night and left, never to be seen again.”

Patrick paused, his hand still on David’s hip. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

David sighed. “I wish I was.”

***

It didn’t take Patrick long to find the café. The town _was_ really small. 

He entered the doorway and looked around, letting out a small, disbelieving huff of laughter. Not really the décor he expected to see in a tiny town in Southern Ontario. So many flamingos.

“Hi! You’re new here,” a cheerful voice piped up from behind the bar. A woman stood there, her smile broad and open. She gave off a faintly hippy vibe.

“I am, yeah. You must be Twyla.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “How’d you know—are you some kind of psychic? I read tarot cards, you know? Maybe we could chat? I have a lot of questions.”

Patrick laughed. “No. Not psychic. David mentioned you.”

Her eyes widened and she really looked at him. He felt like she was taking him apart and putting him back together again, like some kind of human-sized puzzle. 

“Ohhh, _you’re_ David’s boyfriend.”

Patrick felt his cheeks flush. It was such a shock to hear that outside of New York—said out loud by a stranger in a tiny town so close to his own. Such a shock, but also… okay?

For so long he’d worried about how this scenario would play out and make him feel—would it be uncomfortable? Would he worry what people thought—how they looked at him?

Instead, all he felt was _happy_. So right, and so, so happy.

He _was_ David’s boyfriend and that was the most perfect thing ever.

All at once, he knew it would be okay. Talking to his parents would be okay. Even if, God forbid, they reacted badly—it would be okay. He had David. He was David’s _boyfriend_. David loved him. Everything would be okay.

Now he just needed to fully convince David of that.

His grin overtook his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m David’s boyfriend.” He walked toward the counter. “I’m Patrick.”

“Hi, Patrick, what can I get you?”

“Um, I don’t know? David said to order his usual?”

Twyla smiled and nodded. “Coming up!”

“Oh, and a tea, please?”

Twyla nodded again, and Patrick turned to look around the café.

The door opened and a blonde woman entered, tall and slender and very pretty. She gave him a curious once over and smiled, looking past him. “Hi, Twy. Can I get a smoothie, please?”

“Sure. Hey, look who it is!” Twyla said, grinning and pointing to him. “David’s Patrick!”

_David’s Patrick._

He really liked the sound of that. He smiled, warmth filling his body. “Uh, hello.”

The woman squealed and rushed at him, enveloping him in a hug. “OhmyGOD, Button!”

 _Button?_ He pulled back and stared at her. “Alexis?”

She grinned and slapped his shoulder. “Of course! Oh, look at you! You’re even more precious in person! Did you convince David to finally leave the motel?” She glanced around.

“No. He says he’s too puffy. I’m just picking up some food and heading back.” He studied the café a little harder, noticing something set up in the back. “Hey, Twyla, what’s going on back there?”

“Oh! I’m doing something a little different tonight. Thought I’d start a new tradition! Open mic night for the town.”

Patrick stood straighter. “Open mic? Like music?”

“Could be, yeah. I think there’s going to be stuff like magic acts, other things like that, too.” She set a bag and two cups in front of him. “There you go. David’s normal coffee order, your tea, and a couple muffins he really likes. Here’s your smoothie, Alexis.”

“Thank you,” he said, eyeing the bag. This town was something else. It felt… familiar. Safe, somehow. No wonder David missed it. He glanced at the stage again, considering. “Uh, Twyla. Is there some way to get my hands on a guitar today?”

She grinned. “Oh sure, I think one of my mom’s boyfriends may have left one lying around. Do you want to see if I can find it? Does that mean you want to sign up for open mic?”

“Yeah. Yes, to both, please.”

She grinned and clapped her hands together. “Oh, how fun!” Then she disappeared into the back.

Alexis eyed him warily. “Are you any good?”

Patrick grinned. “I’ve been known to perform before, yes.”

“Ah, but are you any _good_? David has performed before too, with Mom. Doesn’t mean I’d volunteer to sit through it again.”

Patrick felt the grin split his face. “ _David_ has performed before? Please tell me you have video of this somewhere?”

“Oh, Button. You’re adorable. You’re so in love with him, and it’s so precious—but believe me when I say you never want to see that. _Never_.”

Patrick laughed. “I disagree. Walk back to motel with me?”

“Of course,” she gushed, her hands doing the weird meerkat impression he’d seen David do occasionally, just way more pronounced.

Oh, they were _definitely_ related.

He laughed and opened the door for her, following her out into the sunny day.

As they walked past a building across the street, Patrick noticed the signs indicating it was closing. He stopped, his mouth dropping open. “Wait. Is this Christmas World?”

“Yeah. You know about this place?”

He nodded. “Yeah. David has talked to me about—hold on, is this space available now? Once they actually leave—is this up for sale?”

“Lease, I think.” She eyed him. “What’s going on? David asked me the same question the other night.”

“He did?” Patrick felt something unlock inside of him. Something warm, and happy, and hopeful. “Um, Alexis. Who do I have to talk to about that lease?”

“Um, my mother, actually.”

Patrick froze. “Your mother is in charge of leasing this place?”

“Yeah, her and the rest of the town council, but Mom is definitely the—uh, _driving force_ behind most of their decisions.”

“Alexis? I’d really like to go meet your mom now.”


	46. Open Mic

David began to worry this was turning into the clown situation all over again.

Patrick had been gone _forever_ and he wasn’t answering his phone. His car was still parked out front, so he hadn’t _left_ , which made David feel marginally better about it. Still, he wasn’t sure how Patrick could have possibly gotten lost in a town as small as this, but anything was possible.

Taking a quick shower and throwing on his favorite pair of black jeans and a soft sweater, David locked up the motel room and set off toward the middle of town. He’d only gotten a few blocks when he spotted the familiar shape of Patrick walking on the other side of the street, talking animatedly with Alexis.

Oh, thank _God_.

David could breathe again, the panic finally beginning to recede.

He crossed the street, heading toward them, and felt the exact moment Patrick noticed him—like a live current in his blood.

_Oh. Wow._

Patrick grinned, wide and open, and sprinted up to him, wrapping his arms around David’s waist and pulling him in for a quick, but still really comprehensive kiss. When he pulled away, David _tingled_. His whole body vibrated. Something about that kiss….

He cleared his throat, trying to calm down. “Well, _hello_. Where have you been? I started to think maybe I needed to check the back of dirty, unmarked vans for you. Dry creek beds, that sort of thing.”

“Aw, David. You’d do that for me?”

David blushed and glanced over Patrick’s shoulder. “I considered it. Found Alexis, I see.”

His sister had stopped on the sidewalk, glancing away from them, curling her hair with her fingers, pretending not to pay attention to their conversation. David squinted his eyes as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her grin.

“Yeah, at the café. Here’s your coffee, by the way. Sorry, it might be a little cold.”

“Well, no wonder. You’ve been gone for ages! Where have you been?”

“I, uh, we got sidetracked, sorry.”

David’s eyes narrowed further. “Sidetracked? What does that mean? What’s going on?”

Patrick grinned and kissed him again, his eyes alight in a way David hadn’t seen before. “I love you, David Rose.”

David’s heart bumped against his ribs and he tried to hide his smile. “I love you, too, but you’re trying to change the subject. What’s going on, Patrick?”

“Nuh-uh. You need to learn how to handle a surprise, David.”

“ _Another_ surprise? Patrick, what have we learned about surprises? Your four-month surprise nearly ruined us! We barely survived it! Besides, it’s not even five months yet.”

“This is a _non_ -anniversary surprise, baby.” Patrick’s voice was low, and he kissed the spot right below David’s ear—the spot that always made his eyes roll back in his head. David let out a little moan.

“Ew, gross you two. This is a public street.” Alexis sounded both pleased and horrified.

David pulled away, blushing. “Patrick…” he whined.

“Nope. Patience, David. You’ll get your surprise tonight.”

“Oh, _will_ I?” David breathed out, laughing. “I suppose I can handle _that_ sort of surprise, but I’m a little concerned you were with my sister when you came up with it.”

“EW, David,” Alexis yelled, rushing toward him and hitting his shoulder. “Ew!”

Patrick laughed and grabbed David’s hand, leading him down the street. “Let’s go back to the motel. Dress up nice, I have a big night planned for you.”

***

David stared around the café, trying his best to shove down his rising horror.

Dear God, an open mic night?

Visions of performing with his mother flashed through his head, making him remember things he really rather wouldn't. The fucking soul-crushing embarrassment he always felt in those moments. It was bad enough to feel that embarrassment for _himself_ , it was another thing entirely to feel it for the man he loved.

There was something very awkward and cringy about watching someone non-professional perform… and to be in love with the person singing at you? Torture. David didn’t know if their relationship could survive a bad Mariah cover.

David began to regret his sweater choice. It was so off-brand for him to wear anything this bright, but something about Patrick’s eyes today… he’d had great hopes for the surprise. He thought he’d celebrate by wearing something Patrick wouldn’t expect.

When Patrick had seen the sweater, the bright orange flames creeping up David’s chest, his eyes had flared almost as hot. The kiss he’d given him set David’s blood buzzing, and he had to pull away, gasping. Patrick had been so _intense_ all day and David had no idea why—until now.

_Ffffffuuuuck._

Patrick got off on public humiliation, it seemed.

David stared at the stage, trying not to vomit as he watched Patrick saunter up, guitar in hand. Someone bumped against his hip, and he turned to see who it was.

His mother.

_Double fuuuuuck._

“Hello, dear. Seems your beau likes the public spotlight, poor thing. Pray, tell me when I should pull the fire alarm?”

“Yep, yeah, definitely.” He paused. “Wait. How’d you know he’s mine? You haven’t met him yet.”

“Oh, I met him this afternoon, David. Sweet boy. Very sincere. He really cares about you, it’s nice to see. Reminded me a bit of your father.”

“Well, I don’t need _that_ , thanks.” He stared at Patrick, who appeared to be tuning the guitar. “Did you meet him at the café?”

“Hmm. Something like that, yes.”

David watched her, narrowing his eyes. Something in her tone….

But, then Patrick was talking, addressing the crowd. “Hi. So, you don’t know me. I’m new in town, but I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special someone in my life. Someone you all _definitely_ know.”

He paused and David clenched his eyes shut, knowing what was coming nex—

“David Rose! There he is. Can’t miss him.”

_Oh, dear God._

David opened one eye to glance at the crowd. They all turned to watch him, full grins on display. Clearly they expected as much of a shit-show as he did. David clenched both eyes shut again.

But, then Patrick started playing.

He knew how to play guitar, at least. Why did David not know he could play guitar? He was actually really good. David tentatively opened his eyes to watch.

Then, Patrick opened his mouth and started to sing.

It took a second for David to fully comprehend just _how_ fucking good Patrick was, and also a second to realize _what_ song he’d apparently turned into an acoustic cover.

Once it all connected in David’s brain, his neurons finally firing in tandem, he staggered back against the bar, holding himself up with one hand. “Oh. Oh my God,” he breathed.

“ _I call you when I need you, my heart’s on fire…._

 _You come to me, wild and wired_ ….”

David felt the tears rush to his eyes and he couldn’t stop them if he tried. He was going to cry—honestly, he was probably going to ugly sob—in front of the entire town, and he did not care even one. little. bit.

“ _Speak the language of love like you know what it means_ ….”

David felt his mother grab his arm and he glanced over at her. Her eyes were huge, focused on Patrick. She looked stunned, like she didn’t even realize she’d grabbed David. He understood how she felt.

“ _You’re simply the best, better than all the rest…_

 _Better than anyone, anyone I’ve ever met_ ….”

Tears fell freely down his face now. David was pretty certain he was going to hyperventilate.

He’d never, not in a _million_ years, believed anyone would declare their love for him like this. That anyone would ever _love_ him like this—a public, heart on their sleeve, _huge_ kind of love—and David couldn’t get enough of it. It was so big, so bright under his skin. He wanted to rush up to the stage and kiss Patrick senseless, but he also didn’t want him to stop singing, either.

Patrick’s voice was so fucking pretty. _He_ was so fucking pretty, up there, singing his heart out, and David loved him _so_ much. So fucking much. How could he survive this? This love was so, so big.

_Oh my God. Oh my God._

He floated through the rest of the song—like he was having some sort of out of body experience. In the back of his head, he knew he probably looked absolutely wrecked. How much crying could one person’s skin survive in a day, anyway? But he didn’t care. Not right now. People in this town knew him—he didn’t care too much if they saw him cry. Anyway, how could they _blame_ him after this performance?

“ _Oh, you’re the best_.”

Patrick stopped singing, stopped playing, and there was a beat of silence before the stunned crowd broke out in applause.

Patrick’s eyes locked with David’s and a giant grin overtook his face, wide and beautiful. David couldn’t feel his legs. He sat down heavily on bar stool, staring at Patrick from across the room, refusing to look away from the gorgeous, perfect, amazing, brilliant man standing on the stage smiling at him.

Smiling at _him_.

Patrick was his. He was _Patrick’s_. Nothing else mattered. Not any of the shit that happened in the last few days. They could get through _anything_ because they had each other.

“Oh,” David gasped out. “ _Oh_.”

“What’s that, dear?” his mother asked, her voice suspiciously wet.

David glanced at her. She had tears in her eyes as she watched him. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head, waving the tissue in her hand.

“He sees you, David. For _all_ that you are.” Then she hugged him and stepped away from the counter.

David watched her walk away, completely out of sorts from the events of the last couple days—of the last five minutes, really. How was he supposed to _function_ after that?

Then, Patrick was standing in front of him, his hands lightly resting on the top of David’s thighs.

“Hi,” he whispered. “What did you think?”

David shook his head, words failing him. “Patrick, I—” He tried again. “I—”

Nope, words weren’t going to work. There weren’t words strong enough to accurately represent this feeling. Instead, he grabbed Patrick’s neck and pulled him forward, kissing him—trying to pour every bit of emotion he could into Patrick through his lips.

Patrick gasped, his fingers tightening, probably leaving bruises on David’s legs as he kissed David back with equal parts emotion and enthusiasm.

David loved it.

After a few moments, someone cleared their throat nearby and David pulled back, his heart racing and his brain fuzzy.

Twyla stood beaming at them. “Hate to interrupt guys, but this is a room full of people and you looked like maybe you were going to take that a bit farther than kissing, so—”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry, Twyla,” David managed to gasp. “Um, we’ll just go outside for a minute….”

He grabbed Patrick’s hand and pulled him out the front door, down the sidewalk, into an alley near the café. Slamming Patrick up against the wall, he continued kissing him.

Patrick whimpered against his lips. David knew he loved being manhandled, loved being the smaller person in the relationship dynamic, so he spent quite a bit of time showing Patrick just _how_ much stronger he could be, even if he didn’t always show it.

Patrick let out a breathless whine and David pulled back, resting his forehead against Patrick’s, trying to catch his breath.

“I love you. So much. So fucking much,” he chanted between each inhale of breath.

Patrick nodded. “Love you, too, David. Always.”

 _Always_.

David fell a little further in love. He didn’t even know that was even possible.

“We can’t stay here. I want to _do_ things to you. I can’t do them in a dirty alley where we’d both contract Ebola, or something. It would be—”

“Incorrect?” finished Patrick, his tone teasing.

“Definitely incorrect,” agreed David. “Can we please go back to the motel now?”

“We can definitely go back to the motel, David, but first,” he paused, biting his lip.

“But first, what?” David asked, watching the emotions that flashed across Patrick’s face. Happiness. Love… Hesitance. Worry?

“Patrick, honey? What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice coming out breathless. He’d just received the most amazing declaration of love he ever could have dreamed of sung to him over a crowd of people. What could Patrick possibly have to be worried about now?

“I did something, this afternoon. For you. For _us_. It seemed like a really good idea at the time, but now—I’m going to be honest—now I’m a little terrified you might be mad at me? Or at least think I overstepped, or something.”

David moved backward, his blood cooling a little. “What did you do?”

Patrick held out his hand. “I want to show you. Come with me.”

David nodded, threading his finger through Patrick’s. “Okay, honey. Show me.”


	47. Dreams for the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters after this to go, and I MAY combine them both in the morning b/c one is really short.
> 
> Thanks for sticking this out!

Patrick pulled David across the street, trying not to freak out.

It had seemed like such a good idea earlier in the day, but after his impromptu performance in there—and David’s reaction to it—his emotions felt so raw, so tenuous. If David hated this—if he was angry Patrick had done something so major without consulting him—well, Patrick wasn’t sure what he’d do. He loved David so much that he couldn’t go through another day like yesterday, when he thought he had spiraled away from him and was lost to him forever. He couldn’t lose David, not now. Not because of an impulsive, reckless decision.

It was too late now, though. He’d already done it, and now he needed to deal with the potential fall-out, whatever it may be.

He pulled David into the doorway of Christmas World and took a deep breath.

David looked around, his eyes confused but alight with something that looked like heated interest and hope. That was encouraging.

“Why are we here, Patrick?” He sounded breathless. 

“Christmas World is going out of business.”

“Yes, I know that. Alexis failed to mention it to me until we were literally standing in front of the 75% off sign, but that’s Alexis.” He shook his head. “That still does not explain why you dragged me over here.”

“The building was up for lease.”

“Yes. It—wait, did you say _was_? As in it’s _no longer_ up for lease?”

Patrick nodded. “It’s no longer up for lease, David.”

David’s face fell. He looked absolutely crushed. “Oh. I didn’t realize they had anybody interested in the space.”

“Oh, they had one very interested party. _Highly_ interested. Came in and offered to lease it without really even reading the contract, which wasn’t very financially savvy or businesslike, come to think of it. But, they were highly motivated about making sure they got the space before anyone else did.”

There were tears in David’s eyes now. “Why are you telling me this? I don’t fucking care _who_ got this space. Good for them. Yay. Best wishes to them. Warmest regards.”

Patrick crowded into David, pressing him against the door with his body, strangely giddy. He shouldn’t really be feeling giddy for making his boyfriend cry, but he couldn’t wait to see how David would react to the next bit of news.

“David. I’m telling you this because _I_ signed the lease. The place is ours. As soon as Christmas World vacates, which is roughly a month from now.” He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on David’s neck.

David gasped, pushing back on Patrick’s shoulders to stare at him. “What?! What the fuck? How? What?”

Patrick shrugged. “I wanted you to have your dream, David. _Rose Apothecary_.”

Tears gathered in David's eyes and ran down his cheeks—his mouth wide open and eyes huge. “ _You_ leased this? You leased this so I could have the store?”

“So _we_ could have the store, David.” He kissed him again. “Somewhere along the way, it became my dream, too. I saw those drawings and heard your business plan, and David—it makes so much sense. You love this town. I know you do.” Patrick laughed. “Hell, I’ve been here like a day, and I already love it. I don’t know—it feels like home. More than New York does. I only love New York because _you’re_ there. Home is wherever you are, David, and I feel like that should be here. With a dream we can grow together.”

David let out a hiccupy little sob. “Oh my god. Patrick.” He stared in the window. “How are we going to afford it?”

“What if,” Patrick blew out a breath. “What if we sold the club? We don’t have to, if you really love it and can’t see yourself parting with it, but David—it’s been so busy lately. It’s really popular. Right now would be the best time to sell it and make top-dollar. We could find a buyer who would appreciate it. Someone who wants that life of partying and the spotlight and random hookups with horrible people.”

He grabbed David’s shoulders, kissed his forehead, and forged on.

“David, I don’t feel like that person is you anymore. You’re _not_ that person, and God knows _I’m_ not that person. All I want is _you_ and a normal fucking schedule where we can make our own hours and not stay up all night. At night, I want to be in bed with you, with my arms around you—not breaking up fights and cleaning up vomit. I want to go to bed with my boyfriend at a normal fucking hour and get up early and make him coffee and be able to watch the sunrise together.”

David’s face scrunched up and he started to cry in earnest. Deep, heavy sobs.

 _Shit_. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe that’s _not_ what David wanted, after all. Patrick’s heart started to beat out a panicky staccato in his chest and he tried to backtrack.

“But, if that’s _not_ what you want, I can back out of the lease. I think we have like 48-hours to change our minds. If you want to stay in New York and run the club, we can totally do that, too. I mean it when I said that my home is wherever you are.”

David shook his head and finally spoke, his voice wet with tears. “Home is here, Patrick. Home is here with you and the store we’ll build together. Home is a boring life filled with bad coffee from Twyla’s and you singing to me on Open Mic night, and watching the sky turn pink together. That’s home. That’s what I want.”

“Are you sure?” Patrick asked, his heart on the edge of bursting with happiness.

David nodded. “I’m so fucking sure. Let’s build a life here, honey. I’ve done it once before, and I can do it again—only it will be a million times better now because you’ll be here helping to build it with me.”

Patrick’s heart expanded and he grabbed David’s face with both his hands, pulling his down for a kiss. “I love you, David Rose,” he murmured against his lips. “I can’t wait to build a dream with you.”

David laugh-cried against his lips, and Patrick had never felt more whole in his entire life.


	48. Friends and Family

David stared down at the folder full of papers and blinked. He thought he’d feel more panicked about this—more restless. But, he just felt… calm.

So calm.

They’d sold the club. They’d sold it for a _lot_ of money. Enough money that they didn’t have to worry about working for a long time, but he was very uninterested in that option because they were still opening the store, dammit!

The money was breathing room, though. He could get a place with Patrick in Schitt’s Creek, and they could spend time finding furniture for both the store and the house at quirky swap meets and antique shops. They could take their time and build the business. He knew they would have so much fun searching for products and vendors to stock the store. He had so many ideas about where they could start, and Patrick was just as excited as him. It would be _so_ nice to have all the time in the world to enjoy each other and explore away from the chaos of the city.

He couldn’t _wait_ to get started.

But, he needed to do something first. This was _important_. So very important.

Taking a deep breath, he went downstairs to Stevie’s apartment and knocked on the door.

She opened it, the expression in her eyes both happy and sad. “Did the deal go through?”

David nodded. “It did, but I wanted to let you to know that I worked out a deal so you don’t have to move. You’re a permanent tenant here… for as long as you want to stay, anyway. You’re grandfathered in. The new owner doesn’t care. He actually feels better about having a permanent resident on site. You can keep your job, too—if you want.”

Stevie grinned and blew out a breath. “Well. That makes me feel _much_ better about all of this. I wondered where I was going to find another place I could afford.”

David smiled and reached into his pocket, holding out a small, folded piece of paper for her.

She reached for it. “What’s this?”

He smiled and shrugged. “You can afford much more than you realize, Stevie.”

She unfolded it, staring down at the check, her eyes huge. “David. What the fuck? Are you for real?”

“You’re my best friend in the whole world, Stevie. I dragged you here so I could keep you near me. You know I didn’t really give you a choice. I forced you participate in what I _thought_ was my dream, building this club. I took you away from the life you knew and plopped you into this one without really thinking about how hard it might be for you—but you _flourished_. I mean, look at you! You’re the lead in a half-way decent musical, you know how to make a wicked martini, and you’re the very best wingman I could have ever asked for. I love you and I’ll miss you, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of when I’m eight hours away.”

Stevie’s eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away. “I hate you for making me cry.”

“I know,” he said, wiping his own eyes. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more. But, David? I’m so glad you’re going back home.”

He nodded and looped his arm around her shoulder, squeezing. “Me too.”

“And, if I fail miserably at Broadway auditions, maybe I’ll just come back and start working at the motel again. After all, I _am_ a part of the Rosebud Empire.”

“You are, an _essential_ part, and I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t want you around—but, Stevie, you’re not going to fail at anything. I promise. You’re going to _thrive_.”

Stevie nodded. “If my best friend says so, it must be true.”

David brushed away a tear. “It’s the truest thing I know.”

***

_Four Months Later_

David stared around the store and glanced over at Patrick, his eyes wide. Everything was absolutely perfect, just the way he’d envisioned. Just the way he’d drawn it out. The bottles were lined up just so, every item labeled with his hand-made design, and Patrick stood behind the register, beaming at him—handsome in his blue shirt and horrible jeans—and David was so, so fucking in love.

With _everything_.

With Patrick. With this store. With their house. With this stupid town. With his family, who came by daily and made his life miserable. Even with the café—serving questionable food that could potentially give him fatal food poisoning, but also providing a space so the love of his life could serenade him weekly.

David loved it all. He’d never been so fucking happy.

 _This_ was what he’d been missing. His whole life, he’d been missing this feeling of hope and excitement and joy and love, and he never even _knew_ it—not until Patrick and this store and this town.

How did he not know such a feeling existed? How had he lived _without_ it for so long?

Glancing out the door at the massive line of “friends and family” gathered outside, he turned to Patrick and grinned.

“Are we ready to do this?”


	49. Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end. All happy endings for these two.

Patrick Brewer finally stopped running.

He stared at David standing next to him, screaming with laughter as the relentless spray of water doused them both—ruining David’s impossibly tall hair, and probably—no, _definitely_ —ruining his soft, gorgeous sweater. Instead of being upset, David just howled with laughter, his hands on his knees as he bent over and wheezed.

And Patrick _marveled_.

The David he met two years ago would have had a heart attack about this—the destruction of one of his designer sweaters, being seen in public with flat hair, stuck wearing his glasses outdoors.

That David didn’t make much of an appearance anymore. Sure, he definitely did sometimes, when David was feeling insecure, or he was worried about something, or he was just feeling annoyed in general, but mostly?

Mostly David just smiled.

All the time.

And he laughed, like he was right now.

Patrick had never loved him more, and _that_ was saying something.

He pulled David away from the railing, trying to get them out of the mist and away from the roaring of the water as it crashed over the falls. He wanted David to be able to hear him.

When they were far enough away, still close enough to see the fury of the falls, but still far enough away they could actually hear each other, Patrick pulled David close and kissed his neck, which was dripping wet and cold.

David shivered, still laughing. “Patrick, honey… what the fuck is this? Are you trying to kill me?” His voice was teasing, with no edge to it. Patrick knew he was happy, even if he still wanted to get a little dig in. “I don’t think life insurance came with the store.”

“It’s a romantic gesture, David. Some might even venture to call it a _grand_ gesture.”

“Oh, would they? Would they call it grand?” David said in Patrick’s very favorite tone of voice, the one where he was trying to be serious, but clearly was holding back a laugh—everything coming out like a question.

“They would, especially since I’m not even finished with said gesture.”

“Oh, you’re not? Do go on, then—don’t let me interrupt. Are we going to ride over the side in a barrel, is that the next step?”

“Yes, David, you’ve figured it out. We’re going to ride over the side in a barrel.

“I knew it,” David said, grinning and leaning down for a kiss. “It’s very sweet, bringing me here, Patrick. Would you believe I’ve never actually been?”

“I believe it. When would David Rose ever have had a reason to come to Niagara Falls? They don’t hold raves here. Hard to hear the music.”

David rolled his eyes. “As if I’m the same person now that I was four years ago.”

“I know you aren’t, David, which is partially why I brought you here.”

“Partially? What’s the other reason?”

Patrick took a deep breath and looked out at the water, trying to come up with the right words.

“I came here, on the way to New York, when I was running away from my life. I stopped here and I looked at the water and I thought, ‘This is your life now, Brewer. This fury and chaos and loudness.’ It’s how I felt inside. I was so confused and lost and sad. I was so angry that I’d hurt and disappointed everyone—and these falls kind-of felt like the physical representation of what was going on inside of me.”

David’s eyes went a little misty and he bit his lip. “Patrick, honey, I’m sorry. Why’d we even come if you felt that way last time you were here?”

“Because, David. Because the second—and I mean the very _second_ —I met you, that chaos and confusion went away. The loudness stopped. Everything made sense. You made the whole world make sense. The way I felt when I looked at you—everything calmed down. You made all this chaos go away,” he waved his hands at the falls. “You made the turmoil inside me stop.”

David sucked in a breath and made a little whimpering noise. There were tears in his eyes when he gazed into Patrick’s, and they were so dark and so full of love. “God, Patrick. Just when I think you can’t make me love you more, you go and say stuff like that to me. How am I supposed to resist you?”

“Are you _trying_ to resist me, David?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think the tourists over there would appreciate me dropping to my knees and sucking your cock in front of their families. Not really part of the vacation package.”

“What if I dropped to _my_ knees?”

“Probably garner the same reaction,” David said, laughing again.

Patrick stepped closer. “David. What if I dropped to _one_ knee, though?”

David’s eyes widened and he let out a little gasp. “W-what? Patrick, don’t me tease about that.”

“Who said I’m teasing, David?”

He dropped to his knee and pulled out a long jewelry box from his coat pocket, handing it up to David—who stood there, eyes wide, already crying and laughing and hiccupping, all at the same time.

Patrick loved it when David got so emotional he basically started to hyperventilate—like he couldn’t quite believe that this was real life. Patrick loved that he could still make him react like that, even a couple years into their relationship. That David still loved him so much that he got overwhelmed with it.

God knows he still loved David that much.

“David Rose, I love you. The last time I was here, in this place I felt like my soul was as unsettled as the water crashing over the rocks, but since I met you, everything is calm. It’s so fucking calm and perfect. You’ve made me so much better. I love my life with you. I love _our_ life, and I love you, and this just felt like the perfect place to ask you to marry me.”

David let out a little squeak and a sob. He opened the ring box with shaky hands, looking down at the four gold rings, and laughed out another hiccup sob as he nodded, unable to form words—tears running down his face.

Patrick surged up and caught his face, and then he was kissing him, kissing him, kissing him until he couldn’t breathe and had to pull away, and this was his future. David was his future, and what a fucking marvelous thing _that_ was.

“Are you sure?” David’s voice was small—happy but small—in Patrick’s ear.

He pulled back and stared at him, running a thumb down David’s perfect fucking cheek. “Never been more certain of anything in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a passion project, and I never thought anyone would pay much attention to it, much less the amazing love it's gotten.
> 
> I appreciate the love, the kudos, the comments, and the friendships I've made through writing this, and I can't say thank you enough. I definitely can't tell you what it means to me. 
> 
> I plan on writing some more in this world- Scenes I didn't write because of the pacing of the book, but things I want to tell. I'll add additional Parts and link them to this story.
> 
> Thanks for going on this journey with me, and thanks for reading! It means everything to me.


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